


The Pakhan's Jewel

by theangryuniverse



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate universe - Mafia, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Beta Phichit Chulanont, Bratva, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Don't copy to another site, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mpreg, Nesting, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Pakhan!Victor, Romance, Smut, Victor is filthy rich, intersex omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 23
Words: 152,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse
Summary: No one had ever heard the omega speak.It was not that they had never heard him at all. They had all heard the voice of the omega at some point – a gentle laugh, for example, a quiet hum, or, quite more often, lustful cries and moans, caused by the Pakhan himself. But the omega never spoke, and never deigned to even look at them, for they all were beneath him, and mattered less than the dirt beneath his feet.For they all knew that Katsuki Yuuri's heart belonged to one man only - and that man was Viktor Nikiforov, the Pakhan himself.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 1501
Kudos: 3095





	1. Kimono

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely have no idea how this happened. The idea came to me when I couldn't sleep, and since I'm a huge fan of Yuuri being 10000% that bitch and Viktor being absolutely whipped, I thought I might give this a try.
> 
> This story is told in standalone chapters and can technically be read in any order you like. Each chapter will have its own theme and not necessarily follow a set timeline. Essentially, it's "The Life and Times of a Pakhan and his Omega."
> 
> This chapter is, however, just an introductory one to the overall setting. Enjoy!

**Kimono**

* * *

No one that worked for the Pakhan had ever heard the omega speak.

It was not that they had never heard him at all. For everyone that worked for and with Viktor Nikiforov had heard the voice of the Pakhan’s omega at some point – a gentle laugh, for example, a quiet hum, or, quite more often, lustful cries and moans, caused by the Pakhan himself. His preference of having his omega wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, was well known amongst the members of the Bratva, but they all looked the other way, pretending not to hear the sounds of mating coming from their Pakhan’s study, from his meeting room, or from any other parts of the house.

But to hear him speak – no, no one amongst them had had that privilege so far, and some of them wondered if the Pakhan’s omega was able to speak at all.

The ability to speak was surely not what an omega of his calibre needed in order to attract a mate – for they had all seen him, although it was strictly forbidden to look at him. But they had all sneaked a glance at him at some point, daring to lift their gazes for the duration of the blink of an eye when the omega had walked past them. They had all seen the extraordinary Japanese beauty; his skin that was like porcelain, his lips so red like ripe cherries, and his hair as dark as the night. They had seen the pride the omega carried himself with, and they agreed that an omega like this could leave behind a path of destruction if he wished so. That if this omega only threw a certain glance at the world, he could bring down entire dynasties.

But the omega was always silent, and never deigned to even look at them, for they all were beneath him, and mattered less than the dirt beneath his feet.

The life the omega of the Pakhan lived was a most sheltered, a most protected one, hidden away in the vast estate of the Nikiforov family, hardly ever to be seen. There were, of course, a selected few that consorted with him, amongst them the closest friends of the Pakhan himself as well as a small handful of servants, all of them carefully selected betas. There were rumours that the Pakhan’s omega lived in sheer luxury unseen before, that Viktor Nikiforov showered his omega in jewels at every possible opportunity, and that it took his omega only an innocent, well-calculated look in order to get anything he could possibly want. The rumours even went so far that people claimed at least half of the Nikiforov inheritance to have been spent on the omega alone, although there was no proof to this, the fact that the omega never wore the same jewels twice spoke for itself.

All these stories had reached the ears of Phichit Chulanont long before his journey to Russia, and he had thought of them on the way to the Nikiforov estate in the back of the car that had been sent for him. But other than those rumours, he knew nothing about the omega he had been called to work for. The Pakhan was very careful with the information he gave out about his omega, and besides the fact that the omega was male and of Japanese descent, Phichit knew nothing. As a beta, he was of little use to his own family, who was just as dangerous and criminal as the Nikiforovs. He knew enough of this life to know that there was no way out, that especially for those born into the family could never leave the family. But he could be of different use, they had said, for he could strengthen the bonds between clans, and if there was something Phichit Chulanont was good at, then it was socialising and making friends.

That, amongst his ability to speak Japanese, had gotten him this position in the first place.

The estate of the Nikiforov family appeared in the distance, causing Phichit to stare with an open mouth right until the car stopped at the massive stairs. A tall, handsome man was waiting for him, his hair blonde at the top and brown and short at the sides. His eyes, Phichit found as he got out of the car, were the most gorgeous ones he had ever seen, with incredibly long eyelashes, barely hidden by the pair of glasses that he wore. His suit was of impeccable taste, and probably cost more than the car Phichit had come in. In his left hand, he held an iPad. With his right hand, he reached out to greet him.

“Mr. Chulanont,” the man said warmly, shaking his hand. “Welcome to Russia. My name is Christophe Giacometti, and I am the Household Manager. We have been expecting you. How was your flight?”

“Good, thank you, Sir” Phichit replied as he shook the man’s hand, recognising him as a son of one of his father’s business partners.

But then again, it was a small world.

“Ah, please call me Chris. Your luggage will be taken to your apartment, do not worry about it,” Chris said and gestured at the house. “Please. We shall start right away.”

Phichit nodded and followed the other man up the stairs and into the estate’s magnificent, marble entrance hall that shined in the light of the chandelier above them, telling the tales of times long gone.

“Oh my,” Phichit breathed, unable to control himself and looked around like a child facing the wonders of the world for the very first time. “This is like a palace.”

“Oh, it is a palace,” Chris remarked with a laugh. “Well, it used to be one, before 1917. But it is still treated as one, and demonstrates the power and wealth of the Pakhan. This way, please.”

Chris took him up a large set of stairs to the first floor, his steps bouncy as if in joyful anticipation of something. “The ground floor is representative entirely, with a ballroom, grand dining room and such. The first floor is mainly offices, with the Pakhan’s personal study, library, and meeting room in the wing to your right. Do not enter this wing unless you have been called by the Pakhan himself, and I strongly suggest you do not test the patience of his guards.”

Phichit nodded quickly, not needing to look at the guards to their right a second time to know that these men would not hesitate to snap his neck if he looked at them the wrong way.

“This hallway leads to the private apartments of the Pakhan and his mate,” Chris explained, gesturing at a set of doors to their left as they walked. “Their apartments take up the entire east wing. The Pakhan has a small bedroom and bathroom attached to his study as well, of course, but he takes his private time very seriously, as you will see. His Well-born, Yuuri-sama, has the larger apartment of the two, of course.”

“Yuuri-sama?” Phichit repeated with a small frown.

Chris stopped in his tracks for a moment, turning around to look at him. “Well, yes,” he said. “That is the name of the Pakhan’s mate. I assume you did not get that information beforehand.”

Phichit shook his head. “I only knew that he was male and Japanese.”

Chris studied him carefully. “The Pakhan is very careful with the information that is public about his mate,” he said. “And it is expected that you keep all information, no matter how unimportant it may appear to you, to yourself.”

“Of course,” Phichit said quickly. “I would never betray the Pakhan.”

“That is what they all say, cheri,” Chris said with a small smile. “Let us not speak about this here. My study is just around the corner.”

Christophe Giacometti’s study turned out to be surprisingly modern despite the almost Imperial feeling of the place. Phichit was offered a cup of Italian coffee and English biscuits, and they sat down at the desk to discuss the final details.

“Your contract was sent to you beforehand to study, if I remember correctly,” Chris said. “I assume I do not have to repeat the terms and conditions of the agreement?”

“No, Sir,” Phichit said and shook his head.

“No need to be so formal with me,” Chris assured him and put the contract aside for now, clasping his hands on top of his closed laptop instead. “But I must make sure that you know what you are getting yourself into. Tell me, what are your expectations?”

Phichit shifted a little on his chair. “I was told I would work for the Pakhan’s omega,” he said. “That I would direct his household.”

“That is correct,” Chris confirmed. “Directing his household means directing his servants and making sure that everything is where it belongs. You will also be expected to serve Yuuri-sama directly similarly to a valet, although only if he wishes it.” Chris paused for a moment. “However, it is more than just that. First and foremost, the Pakhan wishes for his mate to have a companion. A friend, if you will. Someone Yuuri-sama can confide in. This is why the Pakhan was looking for someone who speaks Japanese.”

“Does Yuuri-sama not speak English or Russian?” Phichit asked.

“Oh, he does, perfectly so,” Chris replied. “But to speak in one’s native tongue is something else, would you not agree?”

“Of course,” Phichit nodded, knowing the feeling only too well.

“Furthermore, the Pakhan wishes that this companion or friend will be someone that is willing to take care of Yuuri-sama’s every need,” Chris continued, looking Phichit directly in the eye. “You were trained in the ways of an omega companion. I do not have to tell you what that entails.”

“I was trained in various forms of relaxation therapy for omegas, also for expecting mothers,” Phichit answered without hesitation. “I want to help people. I want to care for them. That is why I chose this path.”

Chris nodded approvingly. “In my eyes, you are the right man for the position,” he said. “But it is not in my hands, of course. Yuuri-sama will decide whether to take you or not.”

And with that, Chris rose again, taking his tablet from the table once more. “Let us go to him now. I will explain everything else on the way.”

Phichit downed the rest of his coffee and rose as well, following the other man out of the room and back down the hallway towards the private quarters. The men guarding the doors let them through without hesitation.

“Yuuri-sama is nineteen years old,” Chris explained casually as they walked. “He was born in Hasetsu, Japan, as the youngest child and only son of the Katsuki family. His older sister is-“

“Mari Katsuki,” Phichit blurted out. A woman feared amongst all those in the world of crime.

Chris raised an eyebrow, but smiled. “Indeed. The match between the Pakhan and Yuuri-sama was made when he was fifteen. He came here two years ago, shortly after his seventeenth birthday. Although their marriage was arranged, they are devoted to one another.”

They walked past a group of maids, all of them giggling at the sight of Chris and greeting him with the brightest of smiles. Phichit noticed that they were all betas.

“No alphas are allowed in these quarters,” Chris said. “All maids and servants are betas. Omegas are only allowed to enter with the explicit permission of Yuuri-sama. He does not like having other omegas around.”

They went through another set of doors, entering a modern, elegant room that appeared to Phichit like a reception. “This is your office, by the way,” Chris said, but did not stop, taking Phichit to the next doors instead.

“Now, the daily schedule. Yuuri-sama tends to be a bit of a night owl. Usually, he gets up around ten and has breakfast in bed, afterwards, he retreats to his ballet studio. He is a passionate dancer, you see. After his ballet sessions with Madame Baranovskaya, he showers and then retreats to his study, where he meets with his private tutor. Yuuri-sama takes education very seriously and wishes to educate himself in various subjects. At the moment, he is studying Russian literature with great passion, I believe. Or was it English literature? Ah, I cannot remember. His lessons are followed by a light lunch around 2:30pm, either alone or with you, whatever he prefers. His afternoons are usually free. He likes to go to the garden with the dog, or simply read a book or play video games. Sometimes he also returns to the ballet studio, or he goes to visit his husband.”

“He goes to see the Pakhan?” Phichit asked in surprise.

Chris chuckled. “Why, yes. Did you think Yuuri-sama was confined to his rooms?”

“O-Of course, not,” Phichit said quickly. “I just thought-“

But Chris was not listening anymore. “Dinner is at seven o’clock, and spent with his husband in their private rooms. If there is a reception or formal dinner, like tonight, it is held half an hour later, in the grand dining room on the ground floor.”

Chris turned to Phichit again. “All of this may always be interrupted by the Pakhan at any time, of course. You will see that the Pakhan and his omega have a very passionate, intimate relationship. In fact, Viktor worships Yuuri-sama and the ground beneath his feet.”

Phichit could not help but smile at the image. “He must love him very much,” he said. “Yuuri-sama must be a wonderful person.”

Chris chuckled. “He is a difficult person, first and foremost,” he said. “Very proud and confident at first glance. Privately, he is a little different. Still proud, but less… frightening, if I may say so. I have the privilege to call myself an acquaintance, almost a friend, to his well-born. But not even I am safe from his moods.”

They had arrived at what appeared to be a living room, modern and comfortable, with large sofas, a huge television, an ancient fireplace, and several book cases lining the walls except for the one with large windows offering a stunning view of the vast gardens.

“I fear I must warn you, he is in a terrible mood today,” Christophe said as they approached the final set of doors, from behind which they could hear the soft murmurs of other people. “He was hoping to be with child, but the tests were negative.”

“Oh,” Phichit said softly, feeling for the man he did not even know yet. “Are they… are they trying?”

Chris nodded. “They have been trying since Yuuri-sama came here,” he said. “This is another reason the Pakhan wishes for a companion for his mate. To take his mind off things, and to perhaps find an answer to his current barrenness. From someone else than a doctor, that is.”

Phichit did not know what to say to that, but there was no time for that anyway, for Chris had already raised his hand and knocked on the door, only to be called in a moment later.

The room they entered was the most beautiful bedroom Phichit had ever seen, with windows just as large as the ones in the room before, the walls kept in pastel colours, the furniture an elegant mixture of traditional styles and modern design. A large bed, covered with countless pillows perfect for nesting, stood on the wall opposite to the windows. Japanese art ornamented the walls, gorgeous paintings of which Phichit was sure that they were originals, and that the museums they were supposed to be in merely showed copies.

And there, by the large mirror, gathered three women around a pedestal, on which a young omega stood, allowing himself to be dressed in a light pink kimono. He had his back to the door, but even from just looking at him like this, Phichit could see what it was that everyone kept talking about – there was an aura of pride that surrounded the omega, as well as so much more that made Phichit feel as if he were not worthy to even breathe the same air.

“What is it, Chris?” Yuuri asked without looking up, keeping his gaze fixed on the women working on the kimono instead. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for you at the moment.”

His English was effortless, lightly accentuated and telling of his Japanese origin. But the words sounded like music, as if the omega were singing.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Yuuri-sama, but there is someone I’d like to introduce to you,” Chris said casually and gestured at Phichit, who immediately straightened his shoulders. “This is Phichit Chulanont from Bangkok. The Pakhan would like for him to work in your household from now on.”

“Eh?” Yuuri turned his head and looked at them, his intelligent, brown eyes piercing right into Phichit’s for a moment before his gaze flickered to Chris. “And whatever for? I have more maids and servants with ridiculous names than I could possibly remember.”

“The Chulanont family has always been close to the Nikiforovs, as you know,” Chris replied smoothly, as if the omega had not just insulted them. “Mr. Chulanont would not be your servant.”

“What else, then?” Yuuri asked, returning his attention to the maids dressing him. “My lady-in-waiting? Don’t be daft.”

Chris chuckled. “No. Your husband was thinking of a more, well, casual arrangement.”

“We both know that there are no casual arrangements when-“ Suddenly, the omega hissed in discomfort as the obi was placed around him, and he let out a wave of Japanese curses at the women dressing him. “Can’t you be more careful?” He snapped, causing all three of them to step back and bow their heads in apology. Yuuri tugged on the obi, letting out a frustrated huff.

“May I?” Phichit asked and slowly stepped forward. “I have experience with kimono.”

Yuuri fixated him with a curious gaze, looking him up and down for a moment.

“By all means,” he muttered and beckoned Phichit to come closer.

Phichit thanked him and approached the omega on the pedestal, trying not to stare at him for too long. But like all the others before him, he could not help it, for the omega was absolutely stunning with his pale skin like porcelain, the long, dark eyelashes and the shiny, dark hair that he had combed back and secured with a single, golden pin for the occasion. The kimono was of the finest quality, most likely worth several hundred-thousands of yen, only to be worn by someone as worthy as the Pakhan’s mate. Its fabric was incredibly soft under Phichit’s fingers as he ran his hands across the seams, checking the correct adjustment of the many layers.

“I’m afraid this kimono has not been put on correctly,” he said after a moment. “This can cause quite some discomfort. I’m afraid we must start anew.”

Yuuri huffed. “What good was it to send you to Japan to learn these things if you cannot get it right when it matters?” He said to the maids that kept whispering their apologies. The omega’s gaze fell on Phichit again, studying him curiously, as if he had only just noticed him at all.

“You have experience with kimono?”

“Fashion design was my minor. I had the privilege to study under Miyamoto-sensei.”

For a moment, Phichit believed to see something like appreciation in the omega’s eyes.

“Well, then,” he said and pulled off the obi and outer layers, placing them in the maids’ hands, “I suggest that we get busy. My husband does not like to be kept waiting.”

And so, Phichit went to work. Carefully, he helped the omega to take off layer after layer, placing the most precious clothing in the arms of the maids until he had disrobed him down to his _nagajuban_. Only then Phichit saw the soft swell of the omega’s belly, a clear sign of a recent mating, and most likely the cause of his discomfort if the kimono was put on him in a too tight fashion. Phichit took the next layer of the kimono and put it on him, securing it all with the _datejime_ , but following the natural curves of the omega’s body in order to make sure it would not press into his skin in the wrong places.

He worked in silence, adjusting the kimono in the right places to make sure the omega would feel comfortable in it. Finally, he put the light pink outer layer around him and reached for the obi to finish his masterpiece as he remembered what Chris had told him before they had come in. Yuuri had hoped to be pregnant, but the tests had been negative. One would only take a pregnancy test if one’s period was late, which was most likely the case. And an omega’s body was especially delicate in the days prior, particularly around the chest.

No, it was truly not the best time for the omega to wear something as heavy and complicated as a kimono, but Phichit would have to make it work.

Finally, he stepped back when he was done, holding his breath as Yuuri studied himself in the mirror before him.

“You tied the obi a little higher than usual,” he remarked as he turned a little to the left.

Phichit clasped his hands. “I thought it would be more comfortable for you this way, at this time of the month.”

The allusion was clear to everyone in the room, but neither Yuuri nor anyone else commented on it. The omega kept looking at himself for a little longer, admiring the artwork that the kimono was before turning around once more, looking at Chris.

“How can it be,” he said, “that of all the people sent to serve me, the one that you randomly bring along proves to be the most useful?”

Chris smiled and bowed his head. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I mean it. What are these girls, if not a waste of my time?”

“I will have them removed from the premises immediately, your well-born,” Chris said and gestured at the maids to leave the room.

“Ah, not you,” Yuuri said to the last of them, much to everyone’s surprise, including the girl herself. “You may be a hopeless case with my kimono, but at least you are good with hair. You can come back tomorrow.”

The girl beamed and whispered her thank-you before bowing and leaving the room after the others.

Yuuri sighed. “You do not have to replace them, Chris,” he said, stepping down from the pedestal and walking over to a dressing table, picking up a pair of earrings that looked like they cost more than Phichit’s apartment in Bangkok. “I have more than enough people working and caring for me than I could possibly bear.” He sat down and put on his earrings with the greatest care. “You are from Thailand, yes?”

Phichit blinked as he was suddenly spoken to, but quickly pulled himself together. “Yes, from Bangkok.”

“I’ve been there once,” Yuuri murmured as he worked. “It was very loud.”

But before Phichit could reply, the door behind them opened and the Pakhan himself walked in, impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, the silver hair he was famous for shining in the light of the chandelier above.

“My most precious jewel,” Viktor Nikiforov said as he walked towards his mate with outstretched arms, ignoring the other people in the room entirely. “How beautiful you are.” He took Yuuri by the arms and kissed him with a tenderness that Phichit would not have expected from him. “I knew this colour would suit you so very well.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri said softly and took his husband’s hands. “Am I late already?”

“Of course not,” Viktor assured him. “We can never be late. We are always on time, remember? And a masterpiece does take his time, after all. Would you not agree, Chris?”

“Absolutely,” Chris said, entirely unfazed by the presentation of the Pakhan’s affection for his mate.

“We were just speaking about the most generous, ah, gift you are making me,” Yuuri said, gesturing at Phichit. “I did not know you had sent for someone.”

“That is because it was meant to be a surprise, milyi,” Viktor said and pressed a gentle kiss to his mate’s knuckles. “I thought it would be nice if you had someone around you that you could treat as a friend. He does speak Japanese, even.”

“Oh?” Yuuri’s eyes began to sparkle and he looked at Phichit with great interest. “Honto?”

Phichit nodded, switching to Japanese. “I was taught Japanese from the age of seven.”

Yuuri began to smile, and he stood on his toes to press another kiss to his husband’s lips. “Oh, I do like him so already,” he hummed. “He even helped me with my kimono, you know? I have never felt more comfortable wearing one.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow in surprise, exchanging a look with Chris. “Who would have thought that we would be so lucky with him?” He said. “I am very pleased. But Yuuri, I do worry about you now.”

“You do?” Yuuri asked, his pretty face adorned with worry all of a sudden.

“Well, yes, for I do not know how I am supposed to unpack you tonight when I take you to bed?” Viktor sighed, gesturing broadly at the intricate wrappings of the kimono. “I fear I will have to cut you out of it in order to get to what I so desire.”

“The hell you will, this is my mother’s kimono.”

Yuuri turned around, his eyes finding Phichit’s.

“Phichit, how can my husband take this off me?”

And so, Phichit stepped forward once more, showing the Pakhan where he would have to pull in order to undress his mate. Viktor listened attentively and promised to make a mental note, so that he would not have to call Phichit out of bed in order to help them.

“Now I believe it is high time for us to tend to our guests,” he finally declared and placed his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back. “It is the Leroy delegation tonight.”

“How very dreadful,” Chris smirked, earning an approving, but disgruntled hum from Yuuri.

“Ah, my Yuuri does not like them very much, and neither do I,” Viktor said with a sigh. “But we must maintain a good relationship with them. Mr. Chulanont, welcome to our humble home, by the way. I hope you will enjoy your stay.”

Phichit bowed his head. “Thank you, Sir. And thank you for this opportunity.”

He stepped aside as the Pakhan and his omega walked out of the room, the latter floating more than anything else. Only just before leaving the room, the omega turned his pretty head once more. “Thank you for your help with the kimono, Phichit.”

“You’re welcome,” Phichit replied and waited until both of them were gone before speaking again. “He… knew my name.”

Chris smiled. “Yuuri-sama never forgets a name. Contrary to what he always says.”

And so, they walked back to Christophe’s study on the other side of the estate. From below, they could hear the amused laughter and chatter of the Leroy delegation, a string quartet playing soft and pleasant tunes in the background.

“Yuuri-sama won’t speak for the rest of the evening,” Chris said as they walked down the hall. “He never does. Not that Viktor forbade him. He merely chooses those he deigns to speak to very carefully. Jean-Jacques Leroy and his wife are not amongst these selected few, I fear.”

“Then what does he do at a dinner like that, if he does not speak?” Phichit asked with a frown as they entered Chris’ study.

“Didn’t you see? Yuuri-sama exerts his power merely by looking pretty while hanging on Viktor’s arm. He is an ornament, to be seen and not to be heard.”

“That sounds awful,” Phichit murmured, taking the seat that Chris offered him and accepting the cup of coffee from him.

“It is what Yuuri-sama chose for himself,” Chris replied and sat down as well. “He suffers from terrible anxiety. You see, he does not speak to people because he does not want to, but simply because he can’t. I am quite surprised he did not shy away from you. I would take that as a good sign. He seems to trust you.” Chris’ eyes narrowed slightly. “And I suggest you better do not betray his trust.”

“I would never-“

“That is what they all say, cheri,” Chris interrupted him softly. “For any other mate in a position like Yuuri’s, such behaviour would be impossible. But as I told you before, Viktor and Yuuri are devoted to one another. Viktor loves his mate, and would bring down entire dynasties and overthrow governments if it only made his omega happy. In return, Yuuri’s devotion shows in absolute obedience. That is how he has been raised.”

Phichit said nothing to that, nursing his cup of coffee whilst Chris prepared the rest of the contract for him to sign. The ink was not even dry yet as Chris glanced at his wrist watch. “A maid will wait for outside and take you to your apartment. I’m afraid that I have to get changed and join the party downstairs. I could imagine nicer things than spending an evening listening to the life and times of Jean-Jacques Leroy…” He rolled his eyes and rose from his chair, Phichit doing the same, and shaking the hand that Chris offered him.

“Welcome to Nikiforov Hall, my dear Phichit,” Chris said, his eyes sparkling in anticipation. “Do not hesitate to come to me if you have any further questions.”

“Thank you,” Phichit said and let go of his hand again, walking with the other man to the door where indeed, a maid was waiting for him to take him to his rooms.

“I shall see you around, then,” Chris said, and Phichit was about to follow the maid as he remembered the one thing he had almost forgotten to ask.

“Ah, Chris?”

Chris raised an eyebrow.

“This is a private residence, right?”

“It is, yes,” Chris answered. “The main business takes place in St. Petersburg. Why do you ask?”

Phichit hesitated for a moment. “So this is a safe place, isn’t it? I’m asking for my mother, she’s always so worried and I would like to tell her that she doesn’t need to be worried, that I’m not, well, in the lion’s den…”

Chris gave him a sympathetic smile.

“My dear Phichit,” he said softly. “This place is _the_ lion’s den.”


	2. Sapphire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> First of all - wow. Like, WOW! I posted this story two days ago and it went through the roof! (is that even a thing in English?) Thank you so much for that! It seems there are so many Mafia AU lovers out there...
> 
> This chapter is a step back - I thought it would be best to tell the story of how Viktor and Yuuri came to be married, and to explain the nature of their relationship, and their respective cultures.
> 
> Just this now before we start:  
> Virginity is a construct. In the real world, it does not exist. Please keep that in mind.  
> Sexism is dumb and Viktor (and in this chapter, Chris) hates every part of it.  
> Nonetheless, both characters are products of their upbringing, and their culture.
> 
> Warning: underage. At the end of this chapter, Yuuri is 17 years old.

**Sapphire**

* * *

The Katsuki estate lay at the very top of the hill, offering a stunning view of Hasetsu and its bay. It was an old Japanese mansion, refurbished, of course, to suit the needs of modern living in the 21st century where needed. A modern part had been added to it as well, hidden away behind shielding walls and protecting gates like the rest of it, keeping those out that were not welcome, and keeping those in they did not want to leave.

For the day, however, the Katsuki family had welcomed foreign guests to their mansion. They met in the modern reception room, sitting in chairs instead of kneeling on tatami mats, wearing suits instead of the traditional clothing their leader usually favoured so. Not that their guests would have minded – they had been partners for many years, close acquaintances, yes, perhaps friends even. And if the time was right, they would possibly become even more.

Katsuki Daikichi regarded the Russian delegates before him with a long, thoughtful look. It was not that they were unwelcome, but their visit had come as a surprise, just like the snow at this time of the year. But the news they had for him, the request they had for him, had sparked his interest, and he had called them to his private study for an in-depth conversation about the whole affair.

Naturally, they were not alone. His closest confidantes had come with him, and their honourable guest had not come without company, either. The room might have seemed incredibly crowded to an outsider, but to them, the conversation was as private as it could possibly get.

“I do have to say that this comes as a surprise, Giacometti-san,” he said, turning his cigarette between his fingers thoughtfully. “Especially that Nikiforov-sama does not come to me with this request in person.”

Giacometti smiled and bowed his head respectfully. “I absolutely understand, Katsuki-sama,” he said, “but Mr. Nikiforov thought it would be considered offensive if he came here himself for such a delicate matter. The very last thing that the Pakhan wants is to intrude.”

“You can tell him that he is intruding already by requesting something of me,” Katsuki replied lightly and took a drag from his cigarette. “I expected many things, I have to say. Financial relief. Support. Hostages. But certainly not that.”

“I can assure you, Katsuki-sama, that it came as a surprise to all of us.”

“You are his friend, are you not, Giacometti-san?” Katsuki asked. “You were surprised, too?”

“Very much so,” Giacometti confirmed, smiling at the servant that came in to serve the tea, thanking her before he continued. “But I’m afraid that he has not been able to think of anything else since returning from Shanghai. I have never seen him so very smitten.”

“Hm.” Katsuki glanced at the framed picture of his late brother on his desk, wondering what he would say to such a business. “Smitten from catching a glimpse of the boy from afar, you say?”

“I’m afraid it is so,” Giacometti said, clasping his hands on his lap and crossing his legs. “I can assure you that none of this was planned. We were not aware that you had a male omega heir.”

“Yuuri is not my heir,” Katsuki replied calmly. “He is the only son and youngest child of my late brother, Toshiya, and his mistress, Hiroko. He had no legitimate children.”

“And yet, we could not help but notice that you have elevated Mari-sama to the status of your heir.”

“I have no children myself,” Katsuki said. “And an omega cannot lead. Mari will take over the business in her father’s name when my time has come. As for the boy…” He took another drag from his cigarette. “Are you sure it was Yuuri that the Pakhan saw in Shanghai?”

Giacometti reached into his jacket and pulled out a photograph, taken by a phone camera, showing a young Asian man. “At first, Mr. Nikiforov thought to have come across a son of the Ji family. But then, this photo was sent to me by Ji Guang Hong himself. Naturally, Mr. Nikiforov was overjoyed to recognise him as the very same man he had seen at the ball. I take it that this is indeed your nephew, Katsuki-sama?”

Katsuki took the picture from him and studied it for a brief moment. “It is him, indeed,” he said, dropping the photograph onto the desk before him. “And what does Nikiforov want with him? Marry him?”

“Precisely so,” Giacometti confirmed. “He has been looking for a suitable mate for quite some time, and he is sure to have found it in your nephew. He has also pointed out the many advantages such a match would have for both sides.”

“I am aware of the advantages,” Katsuki said. “But I fear that Nikiforov-sama does not understand the rest that such an arrangement entails. For instance, he has not even seen the boy. Not even spoken to him. Does not know what Yuuri thinks of it.”

“Many good matches have been made this way,” Giacometti replied casually. “If anything, are they not the norm? And besides, does the omega’s consent truly matter?” He reached out to pour tea into the older man’s cup. “My Pakhan is very much aware of how much you value the traditions and old ways,” he added softly. “And he knows of the outstanding upbringing of an omega of your clan. Obedience and submission to those above are qualities that he believes you both value. In both subordinates, and omegas, that is.”

Katsuki narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at the other man’s words.

“Very well,” he said, beckoning one of his men to come closer and exchanging a few words in Japanese. “Have a look at my nephew. We will see what you think of him then. But I must inform you that the final decision lies not in my hands.”

“It does not?”

Katsuki glanced at the photograph of his late brother once more. “I promised my brother to leave all decisions concerning his children in the hands of Hiroko. It is she who you will have to ask. I know that this is not a binding law, and that I could ship both Mari and Yuuri off to wherever it would please me, but I intend to keep the promise I gave my brother.”

Giacometti nodded and bowed his head. “This is most honourable of you,” he said. “To leave such important decisions to an omega woman.”

Katsuki huffed. “You think me mad for it, Giacometti, you may admit it,” he said. “But Hiroko is very dear to me. She might be a woman, and an omega on top of that, but neither of these qualities do influence her intellect.”

“How very unusual,” Giacometti said.

Not a word was said between them for the duration of their wait, each of them nursing their cups of tea. Finally, there was a knock on the door, and Katsuki’s man returned, followed by a small, delicate figure that appeared even tinier .

Giacometti let his eyes wander over the young man before him, taking in his appearance. He was taller than he had thought, with pale, smooth skin and brown eyes that spoke of his intelligence. He could immediately see what his Pakhan had seen in the boy, even from afar. He was stunning as a whole, not quite a man yet, on the very brink to adulthood.

The boy, Yuuri, bowed respectfully to his uncle and their guest, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor before him.

“My nephew,” Katsuki said calmly, watching Giacometti attentively. “Is it still the very same you have been looking for?”

“It is,” Giacometti said. “Allow me to say that he is indeed a beauty.”

“He takes entirely after his mother,” Katsuki remarked. “Beauty is not his only quality, although the most important one for an omega, if I may say so. He is quite studious and has become fluent in English quite easily. Of course, he was tutored privately. Never would we send an omega to a public school.”

“Of course. When did he present?”

“When he was twelve. That means that was… how many years ago? Brother, how old is he now?”

“Fifteen, Katsuki-sama,” said the man that had brought the omega in.

“And as he shall turn sixteen in a few weeks’ time, that makes it four years ago,” Katsuki explained. “Since then, he has been kept indoors most of the time, naturally. Him being an omega was quite the disappointment to us, I have to say. A male omega is as good as useless amongst us here. So perhaps it would be indeed an appropriate option to give him to the Pakhan. Yes, I believe I am warming up to the idea.” He took another drag of his cigarette, seeming quite pleased with himself, as if it had been his idea entirely to marry the omega to the head of the Bratva. “He has been brought up to be absolutely submissive and obedient, as a good omega should be. In that regard, Nikiforov won’t have any reason to complain.”

“I am sure of that,” Giacometti replied, glad that the conversation was finally taking the desired turns.

“Our doctors will assure you of his purity and fertility,” Katsuki added.

Giacometti nodded. “I am sure of that. But I am sure you also understand that the Pakhan will be even more satisfied if a team of Russian doctors took a look at the omega as well. Of course, we will not doubt the purity of such delicate ware, Katsuki-sama, but to hear it from people that he knows, and that speak his language, will put his mind at rest.”

“I completely understand,” Katsuki assured him paternally. “But as I said before – the whole matter lies in the hands of dear Hiroko. If she refuses to give her son to the Pakhan, then I am afraid I won’t be able to help you.”

“Of course.” Then, Giacometti reached into his jacket once more, pulling out a small, velvet box. “We will eagerly await her answer. Until then, would you allow me to present this gift that my Pakhan has sent for the one he so desires?”

Katsuki hummed, gesturing at his nephew in the most generous manner.

Giacometti rose from the sofa and approached the young man that still kept his eyes fixed on the floor, who clasped his hands so very tightly, and who obviously tried so hard to hold himself together, that he could not help but pity him. But now that he stood before him, he could smell the sweet scent of the young omega, and could only guess the potential that the boy had to lure the whole world into his trap.

“I bring to you a gift of the Pakhan,” he said and held out the small velvet box with both hands. “He hopes that you will find his choice delightful, and that you will take pleasure in his generosity.”

Pale, delicate hands took the box from him, and Giacometti watched as it was opened, revealing a sapphire ring, embedded in a fine, silken handkerchief of the very best quality.

“The Pakhan hoped that it would flatter your fair complexion.”

The omega looked at the jewel with wide eyes, bringing the box closer to his face, as if he could not believe to see such a gemstone in his very own hands. But then, Giacometti saw him take a deeper breath, barely noticeable, but definitely there, and how his pupils widened in pleasant surprise.

“What do we say, Yuuri?” Katsuki asked.

Yuuri immediately closed the box and bowed deeply to Giacometti. “Domo arigatou gozaimasu, Giacometti-san,” he whispered.

“You can go now, Yuuri,” Katsuki said, rising from his seat as well. The boy bowed to his uncle once more and then hurried out of the room, the box with the jewel tightly in his hands.

“Your Pakhan is quite the devil,” Katsuki remarked. “To scent the handkerchief the jewel rested on to lure my nephew into his trap.”

“Can it be called a trap if it is true attraction?” Giacometti smiled, clasping his hands behind his back.

Katsuki huffed. “Don’t think too highly of yourself. The last word lies with dear Hiroko. Until then, be my guest.”

Giacometti bowed respectfully, and eventually shook the hand he was offered. “I am the most honoured.”

* * *

“I managed to speak to him for a moment…. Yes, I gave him your gift, and he was very pleased by it, I believe. Katsuki-sama noticed that you had scented the handker- no, I mean his uncle, not Yuuri-sama himself… Yes, that is his- Viktor, I swear to God, I will hang up.”

Giacometti pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, pacing the room with the phone held against his ear.

“You should have seen him, though, Viktor,” he murmured. “I have never seen an omega in a situation more miserable. There is no worth conceded to him at all. The only protection that he has in this place is his sister, and his mother. She is also the one who will have the final say in the matter.”

Giacometti sat down in the armchair in the corner as his friend replied, his voice almost cracking at the sheer speed of his words.

“Who do you think me for?” Giacometti asked him. “Trust me, Viktor. If I had been able to speak to her, I would have told her personally about your request for his explicit consent to the marriage. Although I must tell you… I fear that this is most likely not of great importance in this place, Viktor.”

He ran a hand through his hair as he listened to the young Pakhan, his friend’s concerns the very same as his own.

“I’ll tell her what you said,” Giacometti said eventually. “Listen, I must go. And you, my friend, have to meet with the Crispino family in an hour. I set it up myself, that’s why I know. Do your work and I’ll do mine here, okay? I promise I’ll call you as soon as I know more. Yeah?”

It took Giacometti a few more assurances to get Viktor to hang up the phone. Not that it would do much, for he knew Viktor would call him back in at least two hours to inquire about the matter.

Until then, he could think about the most pressing matters, and hope for the best.

For Christophe Giacometti had no idea, not with the best will in the world, how to accomplish what his Pakhan asked of him.

* * *

Three days later, Giacometti went to the gates leading to the private quarters of the Katsuki estate, hoping to get to inquire about the current state of his Pakhan’s request.

“I’m afraid my lady has not yet come to a decision,” the woman at the gates said, her gaze hard and unyielding as she looked him up and down. “Come again in a week.”

Giacometti thanked her for the time in the little Japanese that he knew and bowed, not as deeply as was probably appropriate, but enough to leave an impression.

Some things, Giacometti knew very well, took their time.

* * *

“I do not know, Viktor. They will not let me see her. … I will keep trying, yes. But you owe me a fucking huge favour when I get back, you know that? I’ve been here for a month and not a single word from this woman. I am starting to doubt that she even exists…”

* * *

Katsuki Mari had never seen her brother in such a state before. He had always been the shy one of the two, quiet and withdrawn, never able to voice what he wanted right away. It had always taken Yuuri some time to warm up to both ideas and people. And more importantly, she knew how scared Yuuri was of the world, and how hard their mother tried to protect him, tried to both of them in a world so very dangerous.

But the world had begun to reach out for them, first for Mari, and now for Yuuri, demanding its tribute.

And their mother knew it, too.

Hiroko looked up from her embroidery, watching her daughter for a while and following her gaze to the window. In the garden sat Yuuri, on the bench beneath the cherry tree, in his hands a silken handkerchief he had barely let go of over the course of the previous weeks.

“I don’t like this,” Mari muttered, pulling a cigarette and a box of matches out of her pocket. “It’s like he is bewitched.”

“Oh, Mari,” Hiroko chuckled, putting down her work and clasping her hands on her lap. “He is not bewitched. He merely experiences attraction.”

“Attraction,” Mari huffed. “He hasn’t let go of that handkerchief in weeks.”

“It’s a difficult time for him, Mari,” Hiroko explained. “I don’t expect you to understand. But when an omega is being courted, one cannot follow natural conventions but must follow nature.”

“This cannot be called courtship, Okaa-san,” Mari replied, lighting her cigarette. “Yuuri does not even know him. And this Nikiforov does not know Yuuri either.”

“As I said,” Hiroko said firmly, “I do not expect you to understand.”

Mari opened her mouth to reply as the door to the sitting room opened and one of her mother’s companions and guards came in. She bowed deeply to her mistress before resting her hand on the hilt of her katana. “Giacometti-san is at the gates again,” she said. “He would like to speak to you.”

Hiroko hummed softly. “I have not come to a decision yet. Giacometti-san shall come again in a week.”

The other women bowed deeply once more and hurried out of the room again to do as she was told.

Mari raised an eyebrow. “That Italian has been coming here every week for six weeks,” she said. “Why don’t you just tell him no?”

“He is Swiss,” Hiroko corrected her. “And because I have not come to a decision yet,” She picked up her embroidery again, humming a gentle tune to herself as she worked.

Mari began to frown. “You are honestly considering to let him take Yuuri away from us,” she said. “You cannot-“

“I would never allow anyone to take Yuuri away from us,” Hiroko interrupted her sternly. “But I will let my son go if he wishes to.”

She put her work aside again and rose from the sofa, making her way over to the window to watch her youngest child. The wind was playing with Yuuri’s hair, and in his coat, he seemed even smaller than he actually was.

Perhaps the time had come to come to a decision, Hiroko thought, for they knew they were all living on borrowed time. Only as long as her late mate’s brother lived, they could live as safely and comfortably as they did now. Only as long as they remained in his favour, Katsuki Daikichi would respect his late brother’s wishes and leave all decisions concerning the children to her. Hiroko had always known that one day, she would have to get her children into safety. Mari would one day lead the clan and take over her uncle’s place.

But for Yuuri, her young boy, and an omega on top of that, there was no future for him in Japan.

The air was cool as Hiroko stepped outside and went to join her son under the cherry tree, clasping her hands on her lap and watching her son turn the silken handkerchief in her hands. Even now, she could smell the alpha’s scent on the cloth, and whilst it did little to her – for she had had a mate and would never have another one – she knew only to well what the forces of attraction could do to a young omega.

After all, she had been just like that, too. A very long time ago.

“It is a very pretty handkerchief, is it not?” She asked. “Very fine embroidery. And look how very well done the initials are.”

Yuuri ran his thumb across the V.N. in the corner of the handkerchief at her words.

“The ring he sent you was also quite remarkable,” Hiroko added. “A pure sapphire. A most gorgeous one.

“I could not care less about the jewels he gives me,” Yuuri murmured.

“I know.” Hiroko took her son’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But it was a lovely gesture, nonetheless.” She paused for a moment before she added: “You could wear it as an engagement ring.”

Yuuri immediately raised his head, staring at his mother with wide eyes. “Kaa-san…”

“His messenger, Giacometti is his name, has been asking to speak to me for weeks,” Hiroko said calmly, holding her son’s hands firmly in her own, keeping them safe and warm. “I did not want to speak to him before I spoke to you. Your consent in the matter is most important to me. I will not marry you off to some alpha just because he sends you a pretty ring and a handkerchief. Only if you say yes, and only if you truly mean it, then I will agree to a meeting with this man Giacometti.”

Yuuri lowered his gaze, looking down at their joined hands for a moment before averting his eyes for good. Her son had always been shy, and prone to worrying excessively. Hiroko could only imagine how terribly difficult the last few weeks had been for him.

“I do not know what I want,” Yuuri admitted eventually, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Do I even have the right to want? To deny, to refuse?”

Hiroko pulled her son into her arms before he could burst into tears, holding him close and rubbing his back, just the way she always had when he had still been little. It was a mother’s way to protect her most fragile child from the world, and she would protect him for as long as she could.

“You have the right to deny and to refuse,” she whispered into his ear. “And you have the right to want, and to desire. You have the right to strive after happiness, my darling. And I can see your infatuation when I see you hold this handkerchief.” Hiroko pulled away again, cupping her son’s cheeks and kissing his forehead. “You are almost sixteen years old. I knew that sooner or later, I would have to let you go. I always hoped that it would come in a way like this. I would not be able to bear to see you married off like…” She did not finish her sentence, thinking of all the other unhappy omegas in the Katsuki clan.

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “I do not have a future here, do I?”

Hiroko was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t think so, no,” she said eventually and pulled Yuuri into her arms again, the handkerchief lying forgotten between them.

“Yuuri, my love, do you remember what I taught you?” Hiroko asked him. “What did I teach you, must an omega do in order to survive?”

“Love, serve, and obey,” Yuuri whispered, holding tightly onto his mother.

“That is right.” Hiroko kissed the top of his head. “Why must we serve?”

“B-Because our alpha commands us.”

“Correct. Why must we obey?”

“Because w-we belong to our a-alpha, and he rules over us.”

“So it is,” Hiroko nodded and pulled away just enough to look her son in the eye, wiping his tears away with her thumbs. “And why must we love them?”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “Because our love is the only thing that is truly ours,” he said weakly. “The only thing that we can give.”

Hiroko smiled proudly. “I have raised you well, my love,” she said and caressed his cheek. “But are you aware of what all of this means? It means that you have to serve him in any way he demands. It means that you have to obey to him when everything inside you screams to do the very opposite. And that you have to love him, love him so very deeply that it hurts, with all your heart. Do you think you can do that, my love? Do you think you can love, serve, and obey this man? Can you give your heart and soul and boy to Viktor Nikiforov? You must know the answer to this question if you want to be able to make a decision.”

Yuuri looked down at his lap and picked up the handkerchief again, bringing it to his lips. Hiroko smiled as she watched, remembering the way she had felt when her Toshiya had first courted her. The very same feelings were now in her Yuuri’s heart, and she only wished him happiness.

“I won’t have a future here, Okaa-san,” Yuuri said after a while, turning the handkerchief nervously in his hands. “Do you think I might have one with Nikiforov-sama?”

“That I cannot tell you,” Hiroko said. “But I believe there is a rather simple way to find out.”

* * *

Giacometti could barely believe his luck as he finally sat before the woman whose existence he had begun to doubt.

She was a lovely woman, he thought as he studied her, small and curvy, with kind eyes and soft cheeks that reminded him very much of the omega he had been sent to inquire about. Katsuki had been right when he had said that the boy took entirely after his mother. She seemed friendly and open-minded, offering him a seat at the low table in the tatami room, her maids pouring tea and serving traditional Japanese sweets.

“I am very grateful that you allow me to speak to you personally, Hiroko-sama,” Giacometti said in his very best Japanese, having brought an interpreter with him nonetheless.

Hiroko bowed her head. “It is a pleasure, Giacometti-san,” she replied in flawless English that sounded so natural that Giacometti’s jaw almost dropped. “I am afraid I was very busy recently, and did not have time to receive you.”

“I understand absolutely,” Giacometti assured her and bowed her head in return. “Such a delicate matter cannot be discussed within hours or days, or weeks, even.”

“I agree,” Hiroko said, taking a sip from her tea as if she were having all the time in the world. “My late mate’s most honourable brother has informed you of the privilege he grants me in regards to my children, I assume.”

“He has, yes,” Giacometti confirmed.

“This privilege goes further than that,” Hiroko said. “I do not intend to marry either of my children off without their explicit consent. If Nikiforov-sama believes that he can simply come and ask for my son’s hand in marriage and get it, then I’m afraid he is mistaken.”

Giacometti’s face lit up. “Oh, what a wonderful coincidence!” He exclaimed. “Hiroko-sama, my Pakhan would never think of taking a mate without their explicit consent! In fact, he has greatly stressed this very matter to me several times before my departure and every single time I have spoken to him on the phone since. Oh, he will be so very relieved to hear that you share these values.”

Hiroko raised her eyebrows in genuine surprise. “How very interesting,” she said, exchanging a look with the female guards standing by the sliding doors. “Then you will surely be very pleased to hear that my son is inclined to accept Nikiforov-sama’s offer.”

“He is?!” Giacometti called out and almost rose from his cushion. “He-“

“Under certain conditions,” Hiroko interrupted him calmly. “Please do remain seated, Giacometti-san. My guards will not hesitate to strike if they fear for my life, may it be justified or not.”

“Right, of course,” Giacometti said quickly and pulled himself together.

“The conditions are these,” Hiroko said, clasping her hands on her lap. “My son is not even sixteen years old, and therefore far too young for marriage. Nikiforov-sama will wait until Yuuri is seventeen years old. Furthermore, my son may withdraw his consent to this match at any time. Should he decide he does not wish to become the Pakhan’s mate anymore a minute before the wedding ceremony, then he will be free to leave.”

Giacometti nodded enthusiastically. “My Pakhan will agree to all of this, Hiroko-sama, I can assure you.”

“Of course,” Hiroko smiled. “And lastly: should my son be unhappy in his marriage, he will be free to leave.”

Giacometti paused. “It is a most unusual arrangement,” he said. “But… I am sure that he will agree to this, as well. Hiroko-sama, may I speak freely?”

“Oh, please do.”

Giacometti cleared his throat. “Viktor is not a friend of the ways omegas are treated in Japanese society,” he said. “He is a supporter of omega rights across the globe. Any omega in his possession- pardon, in his care, would be treated with outmost respect. Yuuri-sama will not lack a single thing.”

Hiroko regarded him with a long, thoughtful look. “This Pakhan certainly seems like a remarkable man,” she said and raised her hand, gesturing at one of her guards. “But I would like for my son to speak to you himself. It is his life, after all, that we are discussing here.”

“Of course, of course,” Giacometti said as one of the guards left the room for a moment, only to return barely a minute later with the very same shy boy that he had first seen a few weeks ago in the study of Katsuki Daikichi.

“Yuuri-sama,” he said and rose from his cushion to greet the omega with an accomplished bow. “I am most delighted to make your acquaintance.”

Yuuri returned the bow in an equal fashion before taking a seat beside his mother. “It is nice to meet you,” he said, his English accentuated yet clear as he sat down and clasped his hands on his lap. Giacometti could not help but notice the sapphire ring the omega wore on his delicate finger, fitting so very well as if the jeweller had had created the masterpiece just for him.

“My Pakhan will be delighted to hear that his present is to your liking,” Giacometti said, gesturing at the ring. “Sapphires are his favourite jewels.”

“I do not care for jewels, Giacometti-san,” Yuuri replied softly, his voice gentle and composed. “And what a clever trick it was to place this ring on a handkerchief that the Pakhan had scented.”

Giacometti chuckled, rubbing his neck. “I hope that the handkerchief was equally to your liking.”

“It was,” Yuuri said, bowing his head lightly. “I do not wish to keep you here in Japan for much longer, Giacometti-san. Please tell Nikiforov-sama that I wish to accept his offer of becoming his mate, given that he accepts the conditions presented to you by my most honourable mother.”

Giacometti nodded enthusiastically. “Viktor Nikiforov is a reasonable man, and would never wish to force marriage or a bond upon an omega that does not consent,” he said. “I am sure he will agree to all conditions. You will not lack a single thing as his mate, Yuuri-sama.”

“Certainly,” Yuuri said and exchanged a look with his mother, addressing her in Japanese. Hiroko replied and nodded softly, and her son rose again to leave.

“It was nice to meet you, Giacometti-san,” he said and bowed again.

The Swiss rose as well and bowed in return. “It was an honour to meet you, Yuuri-sama,” he said. “Would it be appropriate if the Pakhan sent you gifts over the course of your engagement period? I am sure you would find any of his presents most delightful.”

“If that is what makes Nikiforov-sama happy, then I will not deny him,” Yuuri said and inclined his head to the other man. “Have a good day, and a safe trip home.”

“Thank you,” Giacometti said and bowed again as the young omega left the room, leaving behind only an aura of dignity and grandeur.

 _Oh, he will be perfect for Viktor_ , Giacometti thought.

* * *

The next time Giacometti travelled to Japan, he did not come alone.

The Katsuki clan welcomed him with open arms just like the first time, although giving him slightly better rooms now, with an excellent view of the bay of Hasetsu. But once more, it was business that had brought him to Japan, and once more, he found himself in the hands of Hiroko. He had come to like the woman, but was afraid of her daughter Mari, who regarded him and his men with the most frightening stares each time their eyes met.

It was natural, he reminded himself, for an alpha to be protective of their omega siblings.

The people Giacometti had come with were doctors exclusively selected by the Pakhan himself, omega specialists usually working for the highest institutions of Russia. Hiroko had greeted them all warmly and had thanked them for their services, but not without making sure that even the slightest wrong move from their side would result in an annulment of the engagement.

And he was sure that Katsuki Mari would not hesitate to slit their throats if they even thought of doing either mental or physical harm to her younger brother.

“You must forgive my daughter,” Hiroko said to Giacometti on the morning of the first examination. “She only wants the best for Yuuri.”

“I absolutely understand,” Giacometti assured her as they waited.

Both Japanese and Russian specialists were undertaking a thorough examination of the young omega in this very moment, to determine the status of his health, his purity, and his fertility. For today, the Japanese doctors would do the examinations and the Russian ones would watch. The same procedure would be repeated three days later, with the Russians performing the examinations, to see for themselves.

It was strange, Giacometti thought, to sit and drink tea whilst in the room next to them, an incredibly valuable young omega was being examined, with only thin sliding doors separating them from him.

A soft whine broke the silence, and Giacometti could not help but glance at the sliding doors, wondering if he should leave.

“He will be fine,” Hiroko said softly. “These examinations are not very comfortable, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps I can convince the Pakhan to forget about the second examination,” Giacometti suggested carefully. “I’m sure he would not want for his prospective mate to endure such-“

“It was Yuuri himself who insisted on these thorough examinations,” Hiroko interrupted him calmly. “I have raised him to be proud of his omega status. And Japanese omegas take pride in their upbringing, and in their nature. To go into marriage flawed is unthinkable. Only with purity we can bring honour to our house. That is how we have been raised. That is how we survive.”

Giacometti did not even want to imagine how omegas that did not follow these ancient traditions were treated in this country. In Europe, things were far more relaxed, the equality between alphas, betas, and omegas firm part of most legislations. But in a society like Japan’s, he supposed that this was indeed how an omega could survive best. Simply by playing by the rules.

“I understand,” Giacometti said, wincing as the omega let out a pained cry, and even Hiroko averted her gaze in sadness.

But then, just before Giacometti could no longer hold himself back from doing something about this madness, the sliding doors opened and both Japanese and Russian doctors came in, bowing respectfully to both of them.

Hiroko ignored them entirely, half-rising from her cushion to peek into the other room, her face adorned with worry for her son. Giacometti could not help but follow her gaze. The omega lay on a futon, breathing heavily, with a nurse beside him and patting his hand sympathetically.

“I am very pleased to inform you that Yuuri-sama is at excellent health,” a Japanese doctor declared proudly. “He has developed excellently since presenting. We can attest to his purity and fertility. We are most certain he will bear many sons and daughters once he has been mated.”

Hiroko sighed in relief. “How wonderful,” she said and rose from her cushion to go to her son.

Giacometti cleared his throat, looking at the Russian doctors. “The same examination in three days, then,” he said to them in Russian. “And by God, do treat the boy with outmost care. He is not an animal, but your Pakhan’s most precious jewel. Am I understood?”

There were no objections.

* * *

Three days later, Giacometti sent the reports of the Russian doctors to his Pakhan.

As expected, the Pakhan was very pleased.

A week later, a silver necklace with sapphires was given to the young omega, who accepted the present without a word.

* * *

It was not very often that Katsuki Yuuri got to leave the estate of his family.

But it seemed that since his engagement to Viktor Nikiforov, his uncle seemed to care less about what he regarded the proper ways.

The ballroom was full of people Yuuri had only ever seen on television; politicians, artists, singers, actors and the like, men and women of the world that had seen and done it all, who had lives of their own. Alphas, betas, omegas, all of them gathering in the ballroom of a stately building in the very heart of Tokyo.

And he was among them, at the side of his mother and sister.

Mari was wearing a festive kimono, much to the delight of his mother, who had cooed over her only daughter like only a mother could. Yuuri, on the other hand, had been given a gown made of the finest chiffon, ivory in colour. Around his neck, he wore a sapphire necklace, matching the ring on his finger.

Viktor Nikiforov would be at the ball, too.

It was only appropriate to wear his jewels at such an occasion, his mother had said. And Yuuri, who knew so very little of the ways of the world, had done as he had been told.

“Mari, don’t scowl like that,” Hiroko said softly and touched her daughter’s arm. “You are at the ball of the prime minister. Behave accordingly, please.”

“I don’t want to be here,” Mari replied to her. “This is our uncle’s business. Why did we even have to come?”

“Because you are his heir,” Hiroko said. “And your brother’s fiancé is here tonight as well. I am quite sure you would hate to leave Yuuri alone in such a moment.”

“Damn right,” Mari muttered and straightened her shoulders, looking over at her brother who stood beside her with clasped hands, not paying attention to them at all. “Hey, what are you looking at?” Mari asked, following his gaze across the ballroom.

“Ah.”

A head of silver hair was what had caught Yuuri’s attention, causing him to openly stare at the man on the other side of the ballroom, clutching the ring on his finger.

“Viktor Nikiforov,” Mari muttered. “Oh, how very wonderful…”

Just then, Yuuri held his breath as Viktor Nikiforov turned around, their eyes meeting. They watched as Nikiforov quickly finished the conversation he had just been having with the prime minister himself and turned around to head towards them, followed by his bodyguards and the absolutely splendid looking Christophe Giacometti.

“Kaa-san,” Yuuri whispered faintly, but it was too late. The Pakhan was parting the crowd as he walked, an aura of dignity, power, and grandeur surrounding him and causing the people around him to make way for him and his men.

“If that is not Nikiforov,” Yuuri’s uncle said as he appeared beside them, stepping forward to greet the head of the Bratva.

“Katsuki-sama,” Viktor Nikiforov said as he shook the man’s hand. “What a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Katsuki said.

And then, Viktor Nikiforov’s gaze fell on Yuuri, his bright, blue eyes sparking in delight.

“Yuuri-sama,” he said, his voice like velvet as he reached for Yuuri’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I am the most happy.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, a most pleasant shiver running down his spine as the Pakhan’s lips touched his skin.

“Of course, one becomes entirely unimportant when there is such a beauty present,” his uncle said, and everyone began to laugh.

“Hiroko-sama,” Viktor said, bowing deeply to the woman. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you. My dear friend, Christophe Giacometti, has told me so much about your hospitality.”

Hiroko smiled. “The pleasure is all mine,” she said. “But you are not here for me, I dare to say.”

Viktor Nikiforov laughed. “I am afraid you are right, Madame,” he said. “I wonder, would it be possible to speak to my dearest Yuuri in private, for a minute or two? Perhaps on the balcony?”

“The hell you-“ Mari began, but Hiroko laughed softly.

“Of course. After all, you are to be married,” Hiroko said. “But not without a chaperone. Mari, be so kind and accompany them?”

Mari sighed heavily. “Fine.”

Viktor smiled and bowed once more to Hiroko. “Thank you,” he said and then offered Yuuri his arm. “Shall we?”

Yuuri hesitated and exchanged a look with his mother, who only nodded in encouragement.

And so, he linked his arm with the man he would soon be married to, and allowed him to take him out to the balcony. Mari followed close behind, never letting them out of her sight.

The balcony offered a most magnificent view of Tokyo at night. It was an ocean of lights of magnificence like Yuuri had never seen before, for his life had been so sheltered, and he had barely been allowed outside the house for most of his life, that even a simple trip to Hiroshima or Fukuoka amazed him. But now, he found himself in the very heart of Tokyo with an alpha at his side – an alpha who not only wished to marry him, but who treated him with outmost dignity.

But Yuuri had learnt to be wary of life, and of the people that came with it.

Viktor Nikiforov was not an exception to this rule.

The Pakhan took him to the balustrade to watch the city below. In the light of the lanterns, he seemed entirely different to Yuuri, who had only ever seen pictures of the man. He looked younger now, less frightening, but nonetheless imposing. His facial features, of which Yuuri had always thought that they looked like cut with a knife, seemed softer now as well. And there was an aura about him, dark and mysterious, but also incredibly gentle.

What a most unusual man he was, Yuuri thought to himself.

“When I first saw you, in Shanghai, you looked so incredibly sad,” Viktor said, ignoring Mari entirely who stood a few metres away with a glass of champagne she had snatched from a waiter’s tray, watching them.

“Never before had I seen such a tragic beauty,” Viktor continued, his voice soft and gentle, lowered enough so that only the two of them had this conversation. “When I saw you like this, I felt the urge to get to you, and to take away the sadness from your soul. May I ask,” he turned to Yuuri, his forehead a thoughtful frown, “what it was that tormented you so?”

Yuuri averted his gaze, watching the lights of the city below as he thought back to the evening in Shanghai, at the Ji residence, and how his heart had ached that night.

“You will find it laughable, I am sure,” he said.

Viktor moved a little closer to him. “I am most certain I will not.”

Yuuri said nothing for a moment.

“The morning of the ball, I had received the news that my… that my dog had passed away.”

For a moment, there was nothing but deep silence between them.

Then, Viktor Nikiforov spoke again.

“How horrible,” he said quietly, and with such sincereness in his voice, that Yuuri could not help but stare at the man in shock, both at his feelings and at the expression he found in the older man’s face.

“If my Makkachin had passed away,” Viktor said, “I would have been absolutely devastated as well. How brave you were to attend the ball nonetheless. How awful you must have felt as the one with a grieving heart amongst smiling faces.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, looking down at his hands on the balustrade, as he thought back to the day he had lost Vicchan. He had been a gift of his late father.

“So you see,” Yuuri said, pulling himself together and clasping his hands on top of the stone balustrade, “life has not been too kind to me. But such is to be expected in my position.”

There were little instances where an omega of his station could truly speak of happiness, he had learnt. The birth of a child, for example. A good marriage, too, if one was lucky enough to be given to a good alpha that treated their mate with respect.

Other than that, the lives of omega in Japan were usually a constant struggle. Yuuri had made peace with that long ago.

“What is it, I wonder, what you would expect of life as such,” Viktor said then, clasping his hands behind his back. “What you would like from it, if you were given the choice.”

Yuuri stared at him in both confusion and awe. Never before had he been asked a question like that.

But he knew what he would like from life, if he were given a choice.

“To desire what I want, to get what I want, to have what I want,” Yuuri replied. “To simply have the possibility of wanting, wishing, and desiring. It is not that I yearn for goods and riches. But to have the possibility, the permission, the… the right to dream, and to hope, and to get. I do not expect you to understand this, as you are neither Japanese, nor an omega. But if one asked me for one thing I would want in life, then it would be this.”

After that, the Pakhan was quiet for a good few minutes. Neither of them said a word as they watched the city below, having entirely forgotten about their chaperone, who had forgotten about them either as she got drunk on the champagne and mentally bemoaned her own misery.

“So it is freedom what you desire.”

Yuuri smiled sadly at the Russian’s words, meeting his gaze. “Is it so surprising?”

“Dearest Yuuri-sama,” Viktor said, leaning against the balustrade, his pale hand resting merely centimetres beside Yuuri’s but never daring to touch. “Don’t you know what I will give to you, if you choose to become my mate?

Yuuri took a deep breath, looking down at their hands resting so closely together on the balustrade, the Pakhan’s hand so much bigger than his own, but nonetheless tender. Was this not what he had been thinking about so many times, wondering what his life would be like at Viktor Nikiforov’s side? Not that any of his concerns mattered, anyway. For an omega, there was no such thing as having a choice – especially not in their world, where the word of an omega mattered less than nothing.

But there was Viktor Nikiforov, the man that he was supposed to marry, and he was giving him a choice.

“Well then, Nikiforov-sama,” Yuuri said softly, clasping his hands before him and looking the alpha directly in the eye in an almost challenging way. “What will you give?”

A small smile appeared on Viktor’s beautiful face, and he leant closer, his lips by Yuuri’s ear.

“For example, a car and a townhouse in Turtle Bay, and a fur, and the most gorgeous diamond ring. And we’ll get married in Spain, right on my yacht, and have our honeymoon all across the world. I’ll give you the skies above you and a river beneath your feet. I’ll give you days full of dreams if you let me guide you, and a life you never can repeat.”

Yuuri shivered, Viktor’s voice, Viktor’s lips, so very close, his scent enchanting his senses.

“But most importantly, my dearest Yuuri-sama,” Viktor whispered. “I’ll give you stars, and the moon, and the promise I will never go. I will give you hope to bring out all the life inside you and the strength that will help you grow. I’ll give you truth, and a future that is a thousand times better than anything you could possibly imagine. I’ll give you freedom, and space to breathe, and the chance to fulfil your dreams.”

Yuuri gripped the balustrade tightly, fighting against the urge to give himself to the alpha then and there, the closeness too much, the alpha’s intoxicating scent bewitching him. But within the blink of an eye, Viktor had withdrawn from him again, his gorgeous, blue eyes regarding the young omega ever so thoughtfully.

Yuuri took a deep, even breath to compose himself, clasping his hands once more to prepare himself for what he would find in the other man’s eyes – for he knew if he was not careful, he would drown in them.

“And what is it that you expect from me in return for all of this?” He asked, his voice so steady and calm that it surprised him very much.

Viktor stuffed his hands into his pockets and oh, Yuuri hated how great he looked doing it.

“Only that you let me love you, dearest Yuuri-sama,” he said softly. “Only that, and nothing else, I dare to hope for in return.”

Yuuri could not help but look at him, at this most unusual man that had chosen to court him, that wanted to marry him, of all people. He promised him hundreds of thousands of things as if it were nothing, and all that he apparently expected was…

What was it, truly?

“That is a pretty and very poetic thing to say,” Yuuri said softly. “But it tells me nothing, truly, of what it is that you expect of me, should I agree to become yours. I ask you to be frank with me. I may be an omega, but not as delicate as that words could possibly break me.”

Viktor opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, as if he were at a loss for words.

Yuuri absentmindedly touched the ring on his finger.

“I have learnt what I can give,” he said softly, “and I can only give what I have learnt. To serve, and to obey, is what is natural to me. As for my love, it is the only thing that is truly mine. And I intend to give it. I was not taught, however, to accept love in return. I am afraid that this is not what omegas in my country are taught to expect.”

The sheer horror on the Pakhan’s face was the very last thing that Yuuri had expected to see. Never had he seen a man with a face as readable as a book. The horror was soon replaced by sadness and pity, more things that Yuuri had not thought to see on him.

“Could you let me love you, Yuuri?” Viktor said, dropping the honorific for good, and stepping closer again. “For I do want it so. I have wanted it from the very moment I first saw you. I wanted to kiss away the sorrow and pain. Day and night I searched for you, and when I found out who you were, I…” He sighed heavily, and eventually looked down at the ring on Yuuri’s finger. “I had to try. And then, you accepted my proposal, but I would like to know the true reason why. For you do not care for jewels, as I was told.”

Yuuri glanced at the ring as well, the sapphire in its centre sparkling in the light of the lanterns.

“There is no future for me in Japan,” he said. “I am safe for as long as my uncle and sister breathe. For once, I wanted to hold my future in my own hands. Even if just for this one moment of making this decision. For that moment, my life was… was truly mine.”

A large hand came to cover his own, warm and gentle, and its touch so incredibly tender.

“Freedom and a life on your own terms is what I shall give to you,” Viktor said quietly, lacing their fingers together ever so carefully. “Would it be so terrible if love came with it, too?”

Viktor’s scent was enchanting Yuuri’s senses, the very same that had clung to the handkerchief, and that Yuuri had pressed so very often against his nose, his instincts telling him that right there, he was basking in the scent of the one destined to have him. And yet, all his decisions in regards to this match he had made based on reason.

But now Viktor stood before him, so incredibly beautiful, and kind, and gentle, and promising the world to him and so much more, that for the very first time, Yuuri dared to hope.

What for, he could not yet understand.

And then, as Mari was not watching, for she struggled with her matches, and there being no guards around to chaperone them, Yuuri moved to stand on his toes, pressing a soft and tender kiss to the lips of the other man.

For only a moment too long, Yuuri allowed himself to linger there, his hand on Viktor’s chest, right above his beating heart.

“I do wonder,” he whispered, barely audibly, “if I let you love me, what, then, will be my story?”

And then, within the blink of an eye, it was all over, the spell broken and the magic gone, as Yuuri fled the balcony, leaving the Pakhan behind.

Mari, who had only noticed him upon Yuuri walking past her, threw an irritated glance at the Pakhan before following her brother, leaving an utterly bewitched Russian behind.

* * *

In the silence of his room, Yuuri believed to still hear the music and the laughter, to still taste the food on his tongue and the wine on his lips. But the taste of wine had already begun to fade, and so had the music, leaving him to the calming silence that Yuuri found to be almost healing. The only thing he could hear was the rattling of the windows in the wind, and the rain hitting the glass. It was a night made for a thunderstorm.

And the night of his wedding.

The person in the mirror he did barely recognise, but it was him, and there was no doubt of that. The wedding kimono he had worn had been taken away by the maids, young and shy girls that did not even dare to meet his gaze, leaving him in nothing but his nagajuban, the very bottom layer of any kimono. With the restrictive clothing gone, Yuuri was finally able to breathe, but he almost did not dare to do so.

Yuuri tore his eyes away from his reflection in the mirror, letting his gaze wander. It was a beautiful bedroom, indeed, kept in pastel colours and with white furniture, keeping it light and simple, yet comfortable. From now on, it would be his bedroom, and the rooms beyond his to own and live in as well, given to him by his husband. It was into this bedroom that Viktor had carried him, and had left him in the hands of the maids with the promise he would return soon.

Half an hour had passed since then, and Yuuri felt utterly lost.

His mother and sister had not been allowed to come to the wedding – them travelling abroad was too high a risk. Yuuri missed them terribly, and would have liked his mother’s words of support in this very moment. But he was alone, and in the hands of the most powerful man in Russia.

He had to make the best of it.

Yuuri’s eyes returned to the many bottles on the dressing table he was sitting at, studying the labels. He picked one up and opened it, the scent of lavender reaching his nose. All of these things were given to him by his husband, to his pleasure and enjoyment, he realised.

It was only then that the door opened and he was no longer alone, the very presence of Viktor sending pleasant shivers down his spine, that only became more intense as his husband came to stand behind him and put his arms around his shoulders, pressing a tender kiss to his exposed collarbone.

“How beautiful you are,” Viktor whispered into his ear, looking at him in the mirror. “My jewel. My most precious jewel.”

Yuuri instinctively leant into his touch, his hand touching the sapphire necklace he was still wearing, tracing the gemstones with his fingertips.

“And what about these, then,” he said softly, meeting Viktor’s eyes in the mirror. “Are they not the most precious?”

Viktor hummed, nuzzling his hair. “They only emphasise your beauty, miliy,” he said quietly. “But their beauty dulls in your presence. For you are most divine.”

Yuuri could not help but smile at that, a small laugh escaping his throat, and he leant further into Viktor’s embrace. “Then do take them off me,” he said to him. “And then the rest.”

Viktor did as he wished, removing the jewels from his neck and hands, leaving there only the ring he had put on Yuuri merely hours ago. With only his golden wedding ring left to adorn him, he lifted Yuuri into his arms and carried him to the bed, where he put him down on the softest of sheets and the plushest of pillows. Yuuri lay back and watched as Viktor took off his dressing gown and joined him, the alpha hovering over him and shielding him from the rest of the world with his own body.

Yuuri lay still, watching as his husband undid the sash of his nagajuban, the cool air of the room kissing his exposed skin. Viktor’s hand roamed carefully over his chest and down to his stomach, lingering there for a long moment in an almost thoughtful manner, before it went deeper. A second hand came to rest on his thigh; determined, guiding, pushing his legs apart and baring him before his husband.

Viktor’s fingers were warm as they entered him, searching, feeling, determining his worth as a mate. A tradition as old as time, obsolete due to modern medicine and its possibilities, but tradition nonetheless. If Viktor found him dissatisfactory now, he could send him back, and demand an omega worthy of his bond. But what Viktor found was proof of Yuuri’s purity, the mere fact Yuuri had winced at the intrusion enough to show that no one had ever claimed him.

Yuuri had been taught to be proud of his upbringing. And so, it filled him with pride to have never been touched, to only ever belong to Viktor only.

He was sure that Viktor would not have sent him away if that had not been the case. He believed to know him well enough by now to know that Viktor cared about more important things. But Yuuri would not allow anyone say of him that he was not worth of being the Pakhan’s omega.

He had earned this place. And he would not give it up again.

Viktor withdrew his fingers again, followed by a small gush of wetness that had Yuuri’s heart fill even more with pride. He exhaled deeply and lay back further, turning away his head in submission.

The only thing that came over his lips as he was claimed was a gentle, pained cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:
> 
> 1\. Stars and the Moon by Songs for a New World  
> 2\. Whispering by Lea Michele (Spring Awakening)


	3. Catherine the Great

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone!  
> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos - they mean so much to me! I did not expect this to be popular at all so I'm slightly overwhelmed :D
> 
> For those who are also reading "The Stars, the Moon, and a Soul to Guide Us" - I'm also working on the next chapter for that story, but as it's going to be a rather big and heavy one it'll take some time.
> 
> Important:  
> I have decided to use an anachronistic pattern for this fic. This means: One chapter will be "today" and one chapter will be "the past", aka pre-Phichit. Just like the two chapters that you have already read. I hope this is not too confusing. I'll make sure to always try to make clear where we are in the story in the beginning of each chapter.
> 
> For now: back to our man Phichit!  
> Remember, they are friends, but Phichit is also Yuuri's servant. So their dynamic might be a little odd at times.

**Catherine the Great**

* * *

Phichit was greeted with a well-meaning smile by Chris as he arrived at Yuuri’s apartment in the morning The Swiss was leaning against the wall beside the door, nonchalantly smoking a cigarette that he was definitely not allowed to have in the house, and glancing at the notebook in Phichit’s hand.

“I would not go in there now if I were you,” he said, nodding at the door beside him.

“Why?” Phichit asked with a frown, just before he heard it.

The moans, the whimpers, the cries coming from the other side of the wall, loud and for everyone to hear.

“They have been going at it since seven o’clock,” Chris hummed and clicked with his tongue, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Viktor was supposed to be in a meeting since eight.”

“They have been…” Phichit blushed deeply and lowered his voice. “They’ve been doing it for three hours?”

“Yup,” Chris said and popped the ‘p’ at the end, looking at Phichit in amusement. “I bet it went like this: Viktor had an alarm set for seven o’clock to get up in time to have his coffee and prepare for the meeting. Yuuri-sama complained about being left behind and threw puppy eyes at him. Viktor, naturally, could not resist, and has given his mate what he wanted. And they’ve been doing it since then.” He sighed dreamily. “To be young and wild again.”

“You’re not even thirty,” Phichit said, sitting down on a chair, pretending hard not to hear what was going on next door.

“Ah, Cheri,” Christophe said wistfully, taking a long drag of his cigarette and appearing even more like a dramatic film noir personality. “In a position like mine, the grave is always calling. Ah.” He looked up at the maid that was carrying in a tray with Yuuri’s breakfast. “I’m terribly sorry, darling, but they’re still not done yet.”

The girl blushed madly at the sounds coming from the other room but curtsied and walked out again, taking the tray with her.

“Is it… is it always like… this?” Phichit asked helplessly, hoping Chris would understand what he meant.

Chris shrugged. “Sometimes. When they have not seen each other for a few days it is even worse. You should have seen, well, heard them when Viktor came home from a trip to San Francisco. Yuuri-sama barely let him out of the bedroom again.” He chuckled at the memory that seemed to amuse him so. “It was particularly interesting shortly after they got married. Yuuri-sama was a very different person then, shy and withdrawn. You could barely hear a sound from him in that regard. Viktor was so upset about it that he feared he was hurting him. As it turned out, however, Yuuri had been taught to keep his voice down. You see,” Chris took another drag of the cigarette, blowing out the smoke slowly. “It took him a while to adjust and to, well… to find his voice in any aspect.”

Phichit thought back to the evening one week ago, when he had been introduced to Yuuri for the first time. The omega had seemed so confident and proud, as if he cared about nothing and no-one at all. But he had also seen the more private sides of him, too. When alone, Yuuri was soft-spoken and very kind, almost shy, even.

“And here comes the grand finale,” Chris chuckled and raised his finger as both the Pakhan and his mate let out cries of pure pleasure and bliss.

Phichit cleared his throat and busied himself with his phone and the notebook that contained all of Yuuri’s appointments and changes in his schedule. It was best to have it all written down, he had shortly realised after two days in the omega’s service. There were always random things coming up, or Yuuri decided to cancel things he had planned, throwing all sorts of careful planning out of the window.

Chris quickly threw his cigarette out of the window and waved his hand to get rid of the smell – for a few moments later, the door flew open and Viktor Nikiforov stepped out into the parlour, buttoning his shirt and his jacket hanging over his arm.

“Good morning, Chris,” he greeted his friend cheerfully, accepting the coffee Chris had produced from out of nowhere, and taking a sip. But then, he paused, sniffing the air. “Chris. How many times?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to have to listen to you?” Chris replied nonchalantly and snatched the coffee from Viktor’s hand again to take a sip as well.

Viktor rolled his eyes. Then, his gaze fell onto Phichit.

“Ah, good morning, dear Phichit,” he said. “Here to see my Yuuri?”

“Good morning, Sir,” Phichit said and stood. “Yes, I have some things to go over with him.”

“Of course,” Viktor said and glanced at his wristwatch. “I suggest you wait for ten more minutes until he’s had a few bites of his breakfast. Where is the girl, anyway? Ah, there she is.”

The maid from before came in again with the breakfast tray, carrying it past them into the bedroom.

“Good, then,” Viktor said, straightening his shoulders. “Are Belyakov and Artemyev still in the meeting room?”

“They are,” Chris hummed. “Shall we?”

“Yes, let us go,” Viktor said and headed towards the door. “Have a good day, Phichit.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Phichit answered and bowed his head a little before taking a seat again, flipping through his notebook.

Ten minutes later, he walked into Yuuri’s bedroom where the maid was picking up laundry, briefly looking up as he entered before resuming her task. Yuuri himself sat in bed, dressed in a silk dressing gown, leaning back against a pile of fluffy pillows with the breakfast tray on his lap. In his left hand, he held a steaming cup of Japanese tea and in his right, he held today’s copy of _Asahi Shimbun_ , studying it with mild interest.

“Good morning, Phichit,” Yuuri greeted him in Japanese, briefly looking up at him. “Have you had a look at the papers already?”

“For a moment, yes,” Phichit said and sat down in the chair by the window. It had taken Yuuri exactly three days to warm up to his new companion, and had therefore decided he wanted Phichit to be the one who first saw him in the morning – after Viktor, of course. Yuuri claimed that the Thai had a soothing effect on him, which had made Phichit very proud.

Being a calming presence was, after all, part of his job as an omega companion.

Yuuri hummed. “This American idiot is finally being impeached,” he said and took a sip from his tea. “It was high time. I’ve told Viktor to arrange this to be done months ago.”

Phichit had quickly learnt not to be surprised about utterances like this. Chris had told him on the very first day in Yuuri’s service that the omega was not to be underestimated – that whilst Viktor Nikiforov was the Pakhan, it was Yuuri who whispered into his ear, and who could guide and direct him like no one else.

Like Rasputin, Phichit had concluded, but with the decadence of Catherine the Great.

What Yuuri wanted, he would get.

“May I ask why, beside the obvious reasons?” Phichit knew already that Yuuri was not the kind to mess with his husband’s business, or with politics in general. What Yuuri wanted were always things on a personal basis.

“Three years ago, he groped my sister at a banquet in Osaka,” Yuuri replied. “But my uncle did not do a single thing about it as he was relying on doing business with the Americans. Now I can take these matters into my own hands, finally.” He folded the newspaper and set it aside, picking up the piece of toast with jam. “My husband was so kind to have this man removed from office so that my sister would never have to consort with him again.”

He was like a queen indeed, Phichit thought.

“Ah, Yulia?” Yuuri said suddenly as the maid was about to leave the room. “Your mother, you said she had a stroke. Is she feeling better now?”

“Yes, your wellborn,” the maid said with a smile of relief and bowed her head. “She is feeling much better already. We are taking her home this weekend.”

“Already?” Yuuri frowned. “Is that not far too early?”

The maid nodded guiltily. “The hospital is very expensive, your wellborn,” she said. “We are—”

“Do not rush these things,” Yuuri warned. “Have her recover a little longer at the hospital. At my cost.”

The maid’s eyes widened and she quickly put the laundry basket down to bow to the young omega. “Thank you, your wellborn! Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“Health is the most important thing that we have,” Yuuri said softly. “Please don’t worry about money. You are doing me a great service every single day, after all. If I can give something back, then I will.”

The maid was crying now, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Phichit pulled out a handkerchief and gave it to her, patting her back gently.

“Thank you, your wellborn,” she whispered again as she picked up the basket with the laundry. “You are the kindest.”

“Do send your mother my regards, please,” Yuuri said and picked up his tea again as the woman left the room, leaving a surprised Phichit behind. That Yuuri had many different sides to his personality he had already learnt from Chris, but to witness it first-hand was so very different.

“That was very kind of you,” Phichit said with a smile. “That must take a heavy weight off her shoulders.”

“One does what one can,” Yuuri murmured and put his teacup down. “Now you came to talk to me about my schedule, right?”

“Right,” Phichit said and opened his little notebook. “Should we talk about the week first or today?”

“Let’s do it orderly and start with today,” Yuuri said and set the tray aside to push back his duvet and he got out of bed. The swell of his lower belly was clearly visible under the thin silk of his dressing gown as he walked over to his dressing table, and Phichit noticed the omega was not wearing anything underneath. Not that Yuuri would have cared. It was, after all, part of Phichit’s job as Yuuri’s companion to know everything of him, in every possible way.

“Alright,” Phichit said. “So, today it’s ballet with Madame Baranovskaya—”

“Oh, you can cross that out,” Yuuri interrupted him as he examined the love bites that Viktor had left on his neck. “I can’t possibly practise in such a state.”

Phichit’s eyes fell once more on the swell of Yuuri’s belly and concluded that yes, it would be indeed difficult to practise ballet with it.

“I’m terribly sore and my hips ache,” Yuuri sighed, rubbing his waist. “I should take a bath.”

“I suggest a bath with chamomile,” Phichit said.

“Do what you think is best,” Yuuri said and turned around on his chair, crossing his legs and wincing in slight discomfort. “What else?”

Phichit looked down at his notebook, picking up his pen. “Professor Ivanov is coming this afternoon at 3pm,” he said. “For Russian lessons. At 5, you have an appointment with Madame Kovarikova, the seamstress.”

“Ah, yes, Viktor mentioned something like that,” Yuuri said, absentmindedly rubbing his lower belly. “There is a banquet coming up in a month, and I need a dress fit for the occasion. What kind of banquet was it again?”

Phichit flipped the pages to the next month. “A charity dinner for single omega mothers,” he read out. “Your husband is a patron?”

“He founded the charity,” Yuuri informed him. “In my name. An omega in my position should not stand in the spotlight, you see.”

Phichit understood only too well. In both his and Yuuri’s culture, omegas were considered to be best seen and not heard, and that their destiny lay within the house, to bear and raise children. A public life was not planned for them.

In the West, things were different, but many things were still as traditional as they had always been. Viktor Nikiforov certainly would not have forbidden his mate to start such a charity, but in the world of the Bratva, it was best if an omega stayed in the shadows. For their own safety, and for the sake of their children.

“What a wonderful charity,” Phichit remarked with a smile. “I don’t think there is one like this in Thailand.”

“There is one in Japan, but it is very small, and holds little power,” Yuuri said. “My uncle and his men keep it down. They don’t want omegas to believe that they might have a voice of their own.”

There was clear bitterness in Yuuri’s voice as he spoke, and Phichit wondered not for the first time about the life Yuuri had had before his marriage. He did not even know if Yuuri had had a say in the whole matter, or if he had just been married off to the highest bidder.

Regardless of that, Yuuri seemed content.

And the Pakhan worshipped his mate. That much was clear to everyone working close to them.

“Thank God that we are not under his control, then,” Phichit said and flipped back to the current week’s schedule. “Tomorrow and Wednesday are business as usual. On Thursday, you have an appointment with Dr. Komarova at the clinic in St. Petersburg, and…”

Yuuri made a disgruntled noise, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is it time already,” he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Who is Dr. Komarova, if you don’t mind me asking?” Phichit said.

“An omega specialist,” Yuuri explained, looking up. “For my bi-monthly examinations. To see if I am in good health, and to find the reason why I am not bearing my husband children yet.”

“Oh.” Phichit knew that this was a sore spot for the omega. “I see.”

“I do not enjoy these examinations, but my husband insists on them,” Yuuri said curtly. “What about the rest of the week?”

Phichit quickly looked down into his notebook again. “Friday night, you have tickets for the opera,” he said. “And nothing so far on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Good.” Yuuri turned back around on his chair to face the mirror again. “Please be so kind and tell the maid to run me a bath with, what was it that you said? Chamomile?”

Phichit did as he was told, finding the maid and delivering Yuuri’s request. The bath was ready for the omega in no time, and Phichit held the door open for him.

“You studied fashion, right?” Yuuri asked as he dropped his dressing gown and climbed into the bathtub. “Can you find something to wear for me today? I fear I might have fired the two maids that were responsible for that.”

“Certainly,” Phichit said and waited until the omega had safely lowered himself into the water, a sigh of relief coming from him, before he went to find something to wear for him. Naturally, the omega had an entire room as a wardrobe, with countless pieces of clothing for all sorts of occasions – from casual wear for days spent at home over lingerie to wear in the bedroom to outfits for travel and the most gorgeous evening gowns, there was truly everything.

The fashion design student inside Phichit was absolutely thrilled.

As much as he would have loved to dress Yuuri in the most gorgeous clothes for the day, he was sure that the omega would prefer something more comfortable. And so, he chose a knitted, knee-length dress and a pair of tights that would not cut into Yuuri’s belly and hug his figure nicely. With the clothes and some underwear over his arm he returned to the bedroom and put it down on the bed for Yuuri to look at after coming out of the bath.

He could already think of more clothes like this for Yuuri, some different cuts and a large variety of colours. Perhaps he could talk to the seamstress and discuss his ideas with her.

Yuuri emerged from his bath fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a dressing gown and his cheeks rosy from the hot bath.

“This chamomile bath helped very much indeed,” Yuuri said and sat down on the edge of his bed, taking a look at Phichit’s choice. “I would have chosen that dress now, too, if I had remembered that I have it.”

“I thought it would be a good choice today since trousers could cut into your stomach and be quite uncomfortable,” Phichit said. “As for the underwear, I thought that this sort of cotton underwear might be best to soak up, well… any remaining fluids.”

Yuuri hummed in appreciation. “You’ve thought about everything,” he said and rose, taking off his dressing gown. “I fear you have to help me, Phichit, I can barely bend over.”

“No problem,” Phichit assured him and helped him into his underwear first, then into the soft tights and then into the knitted dress. It hugged Yuuri’s figure just the way Phichit had thought, keeping him warm and subtly accentuating the swell of his belly.

Yuuri seemed particularly pleased about this. “My husband enjoys seeing the proof that I am his alone,” he told Phichit with a smile. “Now then, since I won’t do ballet today…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I… I know it’s probably too much to ask, but…” He trailed off.

Phichit frowned. “What is it?”

Yuuri hesitated, glancing at the door that led to the living room. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not part of your job to spend your time with me,” he said. “Forget about it.”

“Forgive me, Yuuri-sama,” Phichit said softly. “But my job is to be your companion. And that includes keeping you company and to be, well, your friend.”

Yuuri blushed, and all of a sudden, he seemed more like the nineteen-year-old that he actually was, and not like the mate of the most powerful man in Russia.

“I have a PlayStation with the latest Mario Kart,” Yuuri said quietly. “Do you think that… maybe we could…”

Phichit grinned. “Did I not mention that in my CV?” He asked. “No one beats me at Mario Kart.”

* * *

An hour later, they were yelling at the television screen, the controllers tightly in their hands.

“What the hell!” Yuuri cried as Phichit won yet another round. “How did you do that?!”

“I told you I’m the champion of Mario Kart!” Phichit laughed. “Sorry, you’ve lost again!”

“Urgh!” Yuuri groaned and dropped the controller, leaning back against the sofa. “You’re really good. I have to admit that.”

“Thanks,” Phichit grinned and put his controller down as well, picking up his drink to take a sip. “You have quite the impressive collection of games.”

Yuuri nodded. “Viktor gave them to me when he found out I liked gaming,” he said. “I’ve tried to play with him but he is a hopeless case.”

“I know what you mean,” Phichit said. “I have four brothers and three sisters. Only my sisters are good gamers. My brothers? You’ve never seen a greater tragedy.”

Yuuri laughed heartily, seeming so much younger, and more like a nineteen-year-old, now that he was relaxed. “Oh, I really would like to see that,” he said and sighed contentedly.

For a while, neither of them said a word, just watching the screen of the paused game.

“Phichit?” Yuuri asked after a while. “I know it’s probably a lot to ask, but…”

“Hey,” Phichit interrupted him gently. “My job is to be your companion. That means I’ll be your friend, your confidante, your valet, your servant, your teacher, your punching bag, your brother, literally whatever you need.”

Yuuri blushed. “It all sounds less exciting to me when I remember that you are getting paid,” he said.

“So what?” Phichit asked. “That does not make it less genuine to me. And besides, I’m doing this job for all these reasons. It was the only way to make something of my life, the only thing that actually made sense to me. When your name is Chulanont, it’s not really that easy to find work outside the criminal world.”

Yuuri smiled softly. “I understand,” he said. “Being a Katsuki is similar.”

“You might as well stop paying me, and I’d still like to be your friend, Yuuri-sama,” Phichit said. “So please, whatever it is you want to ask me, just tell me.”

Yuuri looked at him for a long moment, the adorable blush still adorning his face. “Would you come to my appointment with me on Thursday?” He asked softly. “To Dr. Komarova?”

“Of course!” Phichit assured him. “I’ll even hold your hand if you need me to.”

Yuuri chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” he said. “But it’d be nice not to be alone.”

Phichit took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’ll be with you on every step of the way, okay?”

“Okay.”

Phichit let go of his hand again and grabbed the controller once more. “One more round?”

Yuuri nodded and picked up his own controller again. “Oh, and Phichit?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t call me Yuuri-sama. I’m not a monarch.”

“Well, your husband certainly treats you like a queen.”

Yuuri laughed. “That much is true.”

* * *

Three days later, they found themselves in the back of a sleek, black Mercedes and on the way into the very heart of St. Petersburg.

Nikiforov Hall lay just outside the large city, surrounded by nature, but if one wanted to go to St. Petersburg, it took just about half an hour to get there. Nonetheless, Yuuri did not seem to go to St. Petersburg that often, as he did not like big crowds and would not know what to do in such a large city on his own.

His husband, after all, was a very busy man.

“It took me a lot to keep him from having me a second time last night,” Yuuri had told Phichit as they had gotten ready for the appointment after breakfast. “I cannot show up at the doctor’s office with a belly round and full.”

Nonetheless, Viktor had been the one to see them off, kissing Yuuri senseless in front of all the servants that looked the other way. Phichit thought that perhaps it would be best if the Pakhan accompanied his mate to such an appointment at some point, but it was not up to him to say such things.

“Have you ever been to St. Petersburg?” Yuuri asked his companion as they drove through the streets of the city.

“Only to the airport,” Phichit answered, looking out of the window. “It is a beautiful city, though.”

“Viktor’s main business takes place here,” Yuuri explained. “And so does his legal business. To the world, he is also the owner of Eros&Agape. Lingerie,” he added.

“So that’s why you own so many sets.”

“Precisely,” Yuuri said with a smile, playing with the sapphire ring on his finger that Phichit had noticed from the very beginning. “My husband likes it very much to see me wear them.”

They arrived at a tall, modern building a few minutes later, stepping out into the sunlight. It was a cold day, for it was early March, and they were both wrapped into their warmest coats. Yuuri even wore a pair of Chanel sunglasses that framed his face perfectly.

He sighed deeply. “I hate these appointments,” he murmured. “I bet they even have yet another receptionist that I have to argue with.”

Phichit, who knew how terribly anxious Yuuri was when it came to strangers, stepped forward. “I’ll talk for you when I can,” he said. “It’s my job to fulfil your every wish, remember?”

That caused Yuuri to chuckle, but he nodded and together, they entered the building and took the elevator to the eighteenth floor where the doctor’s office was located. Stepping into the reception room, Phichit approached the reception desk and exchanged a few words with the young woman sitting there whilst Yuuri waited wordlessly behind him. The receptionist’s eyes widened as she recognised who they were, and she quickly jumped up, bowing her head and showing them down the hall to the examination room and assuring them that the doctor would be with them shortly.

Phichit looked around in the examination room, that reminded him more of a spa than of a doctor’s surgery. “Russians, eh,” he said, looking over at Yuuri, who had taken off his sunglasses and let his eyes wander over the equipment.

“Always the same,” he murmured and took off his coat. “Well then, the sooner we get ready the earlier we can leave again.”

They moved to the screen on the other side of the room and Phichit helped Yuuri to take off his clothing, taking layer after layer until Yuuri stood bare before him. Phichit folded Yuuri’s clothing, wrapped him into the silk dressing gown for patients, and took him back to the examination room. Sitting down in the armchairs at the desk, they only had to wait for a few more minutes until Doctor Komarova came in.

“Your wellborn,” she said with a smile and sat down at her desk. “Oh, you are coming with a friend today?”

“Phichit Chulanont,” Phichit introduced himself. “The companion of his wellborn.”

“Oh, you are an omega companion!” Doctor Komarova said with an approving nod. “What a wonderful addition. Having a companion that cares for and supports the omega can be an immense help. Since when have you been in his wellborn’s service?”

“I started last week,” Phichit said.

“And you are getting along well?”

“He would not be here if we were not,” Yuuri said. “I wish for him to remain in the room during the examination.”

“Of course,” Dr. Komarova assured him and began to open Yuuri’s file.

The following ten minutes, Phichit was amazed over and over again at the sheer number of questions a doctor could have for a single person – especially because he was the one answering half of them for Yuuri, who found it hard to talk to people he did not know well. Nonetheless, the young omega did his best to answer the doctor’s questions about the current state of his relationship with his husband, how many times they mated and in what way, what he ate, what he drank, and many other things.

“Lastly, let me ask when you stopped bleeding?”

Yuuri looked at Phichit, who looked into his notebook where he kept track of these things.

“Four days ago,” Phichit said. “It came slightly late.”

“I see.” The doctor stood and gestured at the examination area. “Let us begin, then. Upper body first, as usual.”

Yuuri did as he was told and sat down where he was directed to, Phichit removing the dressing gown from his upper body, letting it pool around his waist so that the woman could work. When her hand came to rest on his belly, Yuuri shifted uncomfortably, followed by a soft apology of the doctor. But Phichit truly could not blame the young omega for not liking the touch. All omegas, especially young ones, were incredibly sensitive when it came to that part of their body.

“Excellent, your wellborn,” Doctor Komarova said and Phichit helped him into the sleeves of the dressing gown again. “Now please lie back and put your feet up here.”

Phichit, knowing that they had reached the part of the examination Yuuri dreaded the most, never left the omegas side. He helped Yuuri to lie back and held his hand as the doctor began with her examination. Yuuri kept staring at the ceiling, one hand resting on his stomach, the other firmly in Phichit’s grasp. Examinations like these were incredibly uncomfortable for any young omega that had never given birth, and Phichit, who had performed parts of such examinations as part of his training, knew how much they could upset an omega. Thankfully, the doctor seemed to work with the greatest care, but not even she could prevent it from hurting entirely.

Yuuri let out a soft whine at some point, his nails digging into Phichit’s palm.

Doctor Komarova looked up, her expression full of sympathy. “I’m afraid I cannot continue with this examination if his wellborn is not relaxed,” she said. “But I am almost done.”

Phichit nodded and shifted closer. “She is almost done,” he said and put his free hand on Yuuri’s stomach, caressing it gently and moving his hand in small circles – a traditional and highly effective way to soothe an upset omega, and to help them relax. “Just focus on my hand, yes?”

Yuuri gave no sign that he had heard, but after a while, his breathing became more even and his grip on Phichit’s hand loosened.

“Thank you,” the doctor murmured and continued with her examination, doing her work as fast as she possibly could. Finally, she withdrew all of her instruments and Yuuri, who groaned in discomfort, sank back into the chair.

“I’m terribly sorry,” the doctor said apologetically as she took off her gloves. “Take as much time as you need. I will wait for you at my desk.”

She stood and drew the curtain after her, leaving them alone in the examination area so that Yuuri could calm down and recover a little.

Phichit gently patted his hand. “I know it is not very nice,” he said quietly. “But if it helps, you did really well.”

Yuuri let out a soft groan, his hand gripping his stomach still. This was where the examination always hurt the most – Phichit knew it very well, having heard it all from the young male omegas he had worked with during his training. And it was an incredibly sensitive part of the body for every omega, too.

Phichit hesitated for a moment, then, he reached down between Yuuri’s thighs and moved his fingers, quick and skilled, the way he had been taught. In an instant, Yuuri’s body reacted to it, his hand gripping Phichit’s, his toes curling and his thighs trembling. It took no more than a minute until all the tension fell from Yuuri and a gush of warm wetness came over Phichit’s hand.

Wiping his hand on a towel, Phichit waited until Yuuri had calmed down from the sudden high.

“Thank… thank you,” Yuuri murmured, a little out of breath as he sat up and closed his legs. “I… I knew you were… trained in that, too, but…”

“No need to talk about it now,” Phichit said softly. “Let’s get you dressed again.”

He helped Yuuri off the table and guided him back behind the screen, helping him into his clothes. Back at the desk of the doctor, they waited for her results, Yuuri still shivering slightly from the adrenaline rush.

“It all looks excellent, as usual,” Doctor Komarova said and clasped her hands on top of Yuuri’s file. “Your wellborn is in perfect shape for an omega of his age and very fertile. So I truly cannot find a reason why there is such a struggle to conceive. The tests of your husband all came back with excellent results as well. Both of you are destined for offspring.”

Yuuri averted his gaze.

Phichit cleared his throat. “What do you suggest?”

“Well,” the woman said, “I suggest that they simply keep trying. His wellborn is an omega of excellent heritage and good upbringing. Devoted to his alpha. I am sure that all that is needed is patience.”

Phichit nodded. “I see. Thank you.”

They left the doctor’s office five minutes later, Yuuri approaching the waiting car with surprising speed.

“Home, please,” he said to the driver as they got in, and they drove off.

Phichit clasped his hands on his lap, watching Yuuri take off his sunglasses and rub his eyes.

The appointment had upset the young omega more than he had thought.

But who, truly, could blame him for it?

“Sir?” Phichit said to the driver through the screen. “Please take us to an ice cream parlour.”

Yuuri looked up.

“Uh… to an ice cream parlour, your wellborn?” The driver asked, looking back at Yuuri through the mirror, not sure what to do as usually, only Yuuri was the one giving orders.

“Yes, to an ice cream parlour,” Phichit said, glancing at Yuuri and nodding encouragingly.

Yuuri, too devastated to say a word, merely nodded in return, and leant back in his seat, staring out of the window.

It took the driver a while to find an ice cream parlour, but eventually, they parked in front of a small, adorable shop in a street away from the big crowds. Getting out of the car, Phichit took Yuuri by the hand and turned to the driver. “You can go now, I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Sir,” Yuuri’s bodyguard said in a low voice. “This place is-“

“It is safe because you are with us, and you will sit by the door and have some ice cream of your own,” Phichit told the man. “Because his wellborn and I will sit in the corner and have ours, and we won’t be disturbed. Okay?”

The man blinked in surprise that Phichit, who was much shorter and at least 200 pounds lighter than him, dared to speak to him like that. But Yuuri just nodded at the man, and they had no other chance but to do as they were told.

Phichit took Yuuri into the shop and to a seat in the corner by the window, ordering two large bowls of chocolate and raspberry ice cream with whipped cream and sprinkles in the few Russian words that he knew.

“Okay, then,” Phichit said when that was done and put his hand on top of Yuuri’s. “I hope you like ice cream. I find it to be extremely helpful as a remedy when one is upset.”

Yuuri sighed softly. “I’m okay, it’s just… these examinations…” He played with a loose thread on his sleeve. “They always remind me of the ones I’ve had before getting married.”

Phichit understood immediately.

“To see for your worth,” he said quietly.

Yuuri nodded lightly, looking down at the surface of the table before them. “You know that in our culture it is unthinkable for an omega to go into marriage flawed. Not that Viktor would have cared about it, I know that now, but…” He wiped away a tear that had escaped his eye. “Each time I go there they remind me of my failure. I cannot help but think that there is something wrong with me. I should… they said I should have had at least one baby by now, and another growing inside me, but…”

The ice cream bowls were put in front of them, and Phichit pushed one bowl towards Yuuri. “Try to eat your ice cream, okay? Believe me, comfort eating can literally save your arse sometimes. And we can talk while we eat.”

Yuuri looked at the ice cream bowl before him as if he had not ever had one, hesitantly picking up the spoon. Phichit smiled at him encouragingly and began to eat his own, humming in delight at the sweet delicacy.

“Yuuri, it’s amazing, you have to try it!”

With this little encouragement, the young omega finally began to eat as well, hesitantly and with the most perfect manners, small spoonfuls finding their way into his mouth. A small smile appeared on Yuuri’s face, an almost amused one, even, as if he were taking great pleasure in something as simple as sitting in a café and having some ice cream.

“Should I ever get married, there’ll be tons of ice cream for dessert,” Phichit said after a few minutes when he could be sure it was safe to talk. “Chris told me that you and Viktor got married shortly after your seventeenth birthday?”

Yuuri nodded. “On the 9th of December,” he said. “There were all sorts of things for dessert, but no ice cream. I did not eat much that day, anyway.”

“Too nervous?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri nodded again, this time with a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m not that good with people, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“But that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Phichit said. “Not everyone can be a social butterfly.”

“A what?”

“Someone who is really good at talking to people and making friends,” he explained. “But you seem to get along with the staff just fine.”

Yuuri smiled sadly. “You have no idea how hard it is, sometimes,” he said. “Being Viktor’s mate is already difficult enough for me. I have to have two faces. One for the world, and one for my husband. Unlike him, I’m not… I’m not a natural leader or grand dame. It took me over a year to feel somewhat comfortable with the position that I am in now. In Japan, an omega in my position lives a life in the shadows, away from the rest of the world. Here, I have freedom and I can do as I please, but that is not a life that I was prepared for. So I struggle.”

Phichit said nothing for a moment, taking in what Yuuri had said, trying to understand. It was rather sad how easy it was for him to understand what the omega had been going through. He was only too well aware of how omegas were raised and treated in both Thailand and Japan, and how it did not prepare them at all for a world that offered them freedom.

“But you are doing much better now, I assume, than you did in the beginning,” Phichit said. “That is proof of immense inner strength. When I first saw you, and when I first heard you speak, I thought I was looking at the most confident omega I had ever seen.”

Yuuri clasped his hands on his lap.

“As the mate of the Pakhan, one has to lead, too,” he said softly. “Not necessarily like the Pakhan himself, but in other ways. It is within the walls of my home where I have to rule. That includes showing strength. Dignity. Grandeur. Even in times when I don’t feel like it.”

Phichit rested his chin on is hand. “You know how remarkable that sort of transformation is?” He asked him. “I mean, from living a life hidden away in some mansion in Japan to being the mate of the most powerful alpha of Russia? To develop such a personality, despite all of that?”

At that, Yuuri shrugged a little.

“To be honest, I do not know what my personality is,” he said. “I was never allowed to have one before. That is why what I say and do might change from one second to the other and not even I know why. I’m just trying to do things right, in the name of my husband. And it helps me to remind myself that I have earned my place in this world. That I have the right to be where I am, to live how I live, and to demand what I desire. I have lived the majority of my life so far hidden away from the world. Now I intend to take everything I want from life. May it be jewels or a husband.”

“I thought your marriage was an arranged one?” Phichit asked in surprise.

Yuuri chuckled, picking up his spoon again. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said. “Viktor first saw me at a ball in Shanghai, at the Ji residence. After that, he asked my uncle for my hand in marriage. But my uncle had promised my late father that he would leave all matters concerning his children in the hands of my mother. So it was her that had to be convinced in the end. And she did not want to marry me off to some stranger, so she asked me first. I had never met Viktor before. I had not even been aware of him watching me at the ball in Shanghai. But I felt that I had no future in Japan and that if I wanted to live on my own terms, I had to grab every opportunity presented to me. So I agreed to marry him, based on my own conditions, which he accepted. Viktor is, fortunately, very progressive, and would never treat me badly based on the fact that I’m his omega. But it was… difficult to adjust to a world that was so very different from the one I had been prepared for. I was very lost in the beginning. More than that. I could not handle this new life given to me and never left Viktor’s side. I was suddenly supposed to be this… this very important person with power, and an army of servants. I didn’t know how to communicate with my husband because I had never been taught to think for myself. But Viktor was… He was incredibly patient. I fell in love with him during that time. Now I know that I am extremely lucky to have a husband like him, who loves and respects me and only wants the best for me. I had to learn that there is no one that is my superior, but my husband. That I am inferior only to him, because he is my alpha.”

Yuuri paused, looking down at the dish before him, as if lost in thought.

“It has taken me some time to take what I want, but now I do,” he said, looking up again and meeting the other one’s gaze. “You know better than anyone else, Phichit, than in our world, one has to have a hardened heart if one wishes to survive. Especially as an omega. And I must lead my husband’s house in his stead, and for that, I had to gain authority. It did not come easy to me. I am shy by nature, and feel best when left alone, or in the company of a friend.”

All this sounded so incredible to Phichit that he could barely comprehend it. The young man sitting before him was so very unlike the proud, confident omega he had been introduced to, but the same person nonetheless. This transformation from shy young boy to the confident omega and mate of the Pakhan himself was unbelievable, and showed the great inner strength that Yuuri possessed. And deep down, as the basis of it all, were Yuuri’s kindness and his gentle nature. At the same time, Yuuri possessed the pride of an omega of great heritage, one that would not give up the place they had earned in the world. All of it, all the things that Yuuri had now, were the result of hard work and determination.

And Yuuri had been so lucky that on the way, he had even found love.

Phichit sat back on his chair. “You have certainly found your place in the world nonetheless,” he said. “That is something to be proud of. And if I have learnt something from my training, then it is the fact that even the quietest people possess great strength. That in many cases, their quiet and shy nature is their greatest asset. And besides…” He gave Yuuri a long look. “Do you really think that your husband cares about that?”

Yuuri said nothing to that at first, looking down at the wedding ring on his hand. It shone golden in the light of the lamp above them.

“I know that Viktor loves me very much,” he said after a while, his voice barely more than a whisper. “He gives me so much and accepts me the way I am. And I feel horrible for not giving anything back.”

They were suddenly back at the reason of Yuuri’s sadness again, and Phichit watched as the omega absentmindedly touched his stomach.

“Hey,” Phichit said softly, reaching out to touch Yuuri’s arm. “Have you ever talked to him about it? Have you told him how you are feeling?”

“He knows that I’m unhappy about it,” Yuuri said. “He can sense my distress, after all. Then, he tries his best to distract me. He says it is not important, but…” He trailed off.

Phichit was sure that Viktor was not aware of how much the young omega was suffering. It was one thing for a Western omega to be childless. But for one of Yuuri’s descent, it was the greatest shame. To be married, yet childless.

“Your feelings are valid, Yuuri,” Phichit said and moved a little closer to him, putting his arm around his shoulders. “And I know it makes you sad. But we must not dwell on things we have no influence on in our current situation. Right now, in this very moment, there is absolutely nothing we can do about it. The only thing we can do is to take care of ourselves. Why do you think I took you to an ice cream parlour? Self-care is so important. And don’t get me wrong, but I think that is not something you have been told to practise growing up in the Katsuki clan.”

Yuuri frowned a little. “Self-care?” He repeated. “Like… eating ice cream is self-care?”

“Eating ice cream, spending time with friends, treating yourself to something nice…” Phichit began to list all the things he could think of. “To remind ourselves to treat ourselves good. We are our own best friend, after all. That way, we can get our confidence back. And I know you have it. I mean, the way you’ve fired those two maids that day…”

“Did you really think I would fire someone over a kimono?” Yuuri asked.

Phichit raised an eyebrow. “Did I miss something then?”

Yuuri chuckled. “The thing is, I have been looking for a reason to fire them for some time. They’ve been stealing from my jewellery box.”

Phichit blinked. “They stole your jewellery?”

Yuuri nodded. “If I had told my husband, he would have overreacted completely. He can be like that sometimes. And I don’t care so much about jewels that I would have a maid get killed over them. It was much easier to fire them.”

“But what about the jewels?”

“Oh, let them be happy with them,” Yuuri shrugged. “I don’t keep my best jewels where a maid could possibly get to them. The ones they stole are worth barely a thousand dollars.”

Barely a thousand dollars.

“Do you even know what a queen you are, Yuuri?” Phichit grinned. “From shy to confident and nonchalant in less than ten seconds. Where was that power just now?”

Yuuri blushed adorably at the praise, and Phichit could clearly see what Viktor Nikiforov saw in the omega.

“I think what you and I can do about this misery now is to get some distraction from it,” Phichit declared and pulled out his wallet to pay. “It’s barely two in the afternoon. Let’s go somewhere fun.”

“But…” Yuuri hesitated, shutting up at once when he saw Phichit’s face. “What did you, ah, have in mind?”

Phichit grinned. “Yuuri, have you ever been to the Yaoi section in a comic book shop?”

* * *

It was after seven o’clock in the evening when they returned to Nikiforov Hall, the car filled with shopping bags from all the stores Phichit had dragged Yuuri into. But most importantly, Yuuri had a smile on his face, and had laughed heartily so many times that afternoon that he could even feel it in the muscles of his stomach.

The driver held the door open for them as they climbed out, going inside together and taking off their coats as they stepped into the large, warm entrance hall.

“Oh, there you finally are!”

Something tall and silver came flying down the stairs, and Phichit stepped aside just in time as Viktor Nikiforov himself pulled Yuuri into his arms and kissed him what seemed to be a thousand times.

“My most precious jewel!” He sighed in relief, cupping his mate’s cheeks like a man that had not seen the love of his life in months. “I was so surprised when I received the call from your bodyguards that you were spending the afternoon in the city. I had no idea that you had planned a shopping spree.” Viktor looked up from Yuuri and over at Phichit instead, who smiled apologetically.

“We thought it would be best as some kind of cheering up after the appointment, Sir,” he said.

Viktor’s face fell. “What happened?”

“Everything is fine,” Phichit assured him in Yuuri’s stead, who would not speak as there were Viktor’s people all over the place. “It is just that these appointments are never particularly fun.”

“Oh, my jewel,” Viktor sighed and pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “Did you enjoy yourself this afternoon? Did you buy something nice?”

Yuuri nodded, gesturing at the servants that were carrying the bags past them and up the stairs.

“I’m glad,” Viktor said and scooped Yuuri up into his arms with ease. “But now I want you all to myself, miliy. An entire day without you is something I can hardly bear.”

Yuuri buried his face in the crook of his husband’s neck affectionally, and let out a soft, content purr.

Viktor smiled in delight and turned to Phichit once more. “Thank you for taking care of my most precious jewel,” he said. “Please do take the rest of the evening off.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Phichit said and bowed his head, watching as Viktor carried Yuuri away to their apartment, and away from the world.

What a most remarkable couple indeed, Phichit thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. Virtue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome back!  
> I'm glad that you all liked the last chapter so much.  
> As there was some confusion in regards to omega anatomy/mating in general in this fic, please note that I have added the appropriate tag to the story (I completely forgot about it). Other than that, I want to write the story in a way that allows all of you to imagine the omegaverse in the way you personally prefer. 
> 
> In this chapter, we're back in "pre-Phichit times", AKA after the wedding. 
> 
> Forecast for this chapter: Some Viktor's POV with fluff and smut!
> 
> Have fun!

**Virtue**

* * *

Viktor Nikiforov had never been interested in the sweet pains of love.

And then, within the blink of an eye, he had thrown all of that right out of the window.

All of it had taken place on that most fateful night in Shanghai.

Christophe Giacometti had been at his side, as usual, keeping him company at the ball. Viktor had come without a partner at his side, unlike the many others that had beautiful omegas hanging from their arms. It was not that Viktor could not see the appeal – he merely found it a waste of time to pick an omega for one night only, or simply one to have fun with for a while. In the past, he had always quickly become bored of his lovers, and he had no reason to assume that this would ever change. Chris had claimed that this was because all of Viktor’s lovers had been betas, and that nature simply had not planned for an alpha like him to satisfy his needs with a beta that could not give him children. But precisely that had seemed reasonable to Viktor all these years. A beta could not become accidentally pregnant and claim that the child was his. No, a man in his position had to be most careful.

His parents were dead; his father having died from a heart attack and his mother having passed away when he had been too young to even remember her, and there was no one to tell him to settle down and produce an heir. These things could still wait, he had thought.

But then, he had let his gaze wander, and his eyes had fallen on the most gorgeous beauty to ever walk the earth.

And as the omegas floral, sweet scent reached his nose, he knew that he had to have him.

Now, more than two years later, he held his most precious possession, his most precious jewel in his arms.

Yuuri was a sight to behold. Young and beautiful, with the most luscious body and the most gorgeous eyes that were beyond compare. Viktor loved all of it, the colour of his dark hair, the shape of his nose, the pink shade of his lips, the creamy thighs, the tender, fragile-looking hands. And, of course, the soft curve of the omegas belly, now round and heavy with his seed.

Yuuri had been absolutely perfect in their marriage bed so far, lying back and submitting to his husband completely. Viktor had taken great pleasure in having him, doing so with the greatest care, but not even the most powerful man in Russia could prevent the pain that any omega felt upon the first mating. But Yuuri had endured it with dignity, only a small cry coming over his lips as Viktor moved inside him, his arms resting limp to the sides of his head on the pillow. Viktor, who had been overwhelmed by the sensation of having a pure omega all to himself, had not lasted long.

After this first mating, he had undressed Yuuri completely, taking away the soiled _nagajuban_ Yuuri had worn under his wedding kimono. They would preserve it as proof of Yuuri’s purity before laying in the marriage bed, and Viktor had been taught that in Japan, this custom was most important and served as a collateral for the omega, should they ever be accused of having been flawed before marriage.

Wanting to be a good husband, he would respect Yuuri’s wishes, and his culture. Therefore, he had studied the customs of Japan thoroughly, and had consulted several omega specialists. Whilst many things he learnt disgusted Viktor – such as the fact that Japanese omegas were traditionally forbidden to even eat without their alpha’s permission – he was aware that Yuuri had been raised in a very different culture, and that he had been taught different things. Yuuri’s mother, the Lady Hiroko, had proven to be exceptionally helpful, providing them with information on Yuuri’s upbringing and which values he had been taught.

Such a match between a Russian alpha and a Japanese omega was, as Viktor soon realised, a literal minefield. But he was determined to accommodate Yuuri in any way possible, if only to give him stability in his new life.

Yuuri, it seemed, had been thinking about the same. He had learnt Russian, which sounded adorable when he spoke, and had studied the ways and customs of his new home. The best they could do was to meet each other somewhere in the middle.

Other than that, Viktor was sure that he had found the perfect mate in Yuuri. The omega was intelligent and kind, and wonderful to talk to. But he was also submissive and obedient, the very qualities that Viktor, despite being a supporter of omega rights, desired in a mate.

For he could not protect a mate that refused to obey.

Viktor ran his hand down Yuuri’s body, ever so careful as not to wake the omega, resting his hand on his swollen belly. He had taken him two more times after claiming his virtue, fulfilling the Japanese tradition Yuuri had grown up with. Yuuri had been most obedient, holding onto him without making a sound except for the occasional whine of discomfort. It was well-known that an omega would need a while to adjust to their alpha, and that their initial discomfort was to be viewed as a good sign: For it showed that no alpha had claimed them before, and that they truly only belonged to the one they had been officially given to.

Until then, an omega simply lay still and endured claiming after claiming.

Viktor gently caressed Yuuri’s belly, smiling proudly to himself. Soon, he was sure, Yuuri would be with child, and bear him an heir. Oh, he could hardly wait to see him heavy with their child, for a pregnancy was said to turn an omega into the most beautiful, most divine being known to man.

Yuuri stirred in his arms, his hand moving down to his stomach in his sleep, cupping it just like Viktor’s hand. A baby would help Yuuri settle down, Viktor had been told, first and foremost by Yuuri’s mother. Most omegas of Yuuri’s culture married young, and had one child before the age of eighteen, and at least one or even two more before the age of twenty. Not that Viktor had married him for that. No, his motivation had been an entirely different one.

Viktor had simply known that if he could not have Yuuri, then he would never find someone as perfect as him again.

But to see Yuuri heavy with their child, and to watch Yuuri become a loving and affectionate mother – that thought certainly had its perks.

Yuuri stirred again, this time waking up from Viktor’s caresses, and he sleepily blinked his eyes open. It was still dark in the room except for the one lamp on the dressing table that Viktor had left on, as young omegas were known to feel scared at night in a new home, and the light of it barely touched Yuuri’s face. But it was enough to let Viktor admire his newest possession. Yuuri turned his head to meet his gaze, smiling softly at him. Viktor smiled back, the sweet, alluring scent of the omega enchanting his senses and telling him of Yuuri’s attraction to him.

An excellent sign for a good marriage.

“Did I wake you, my jewel?” Viktor asked, stroking his mate’s cheek. “You must be so very tired.”

Yuuri kept smiling at him, sleepily, but honest. “You might have,” he admitted and fully turned to lie on his back underneath Viktor. Compared to the alpha, he seemed incredibly fragile and small.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor said softly and bent down to kiss the omega on the lips. It was a chaste, tender kiss, as he did not want to overwhelm him. But Yuuri returned the kiss, and an adorable blush spread down to his navel as they parted again. “I was just admiring your beauty.”

“I’m glad that I am to your liking,” Yuuri replied quietly, and that alone made Viktor smile again. He knew that it was a Japanese saying of omegas, their typical response when their alpha praised them for their beauty.

“How could you not be?” Viktor hummed and settled beside his mate, gently stroking the soft curve of his belly. “To see you at the ball in Shanghai was one thing. To speak to you, and to hear the passion in your voice, and to see the fire in your eyes in Tokyo was so much more. I married you because I adore you. But I have to admit that yes, you are very much to my liking.” He kissed Yuuri again, a little longer this time before pulling away again. “But you are not an ornament to me. I hope you know that.”

Yuuri chuckled. “You have made that very clear in your messages,” he said.

Shortly after their meeting in Tokyo, Viktor had sent Yuuri a smartphone so that they could stay in touch. It had taken Yuuri a while to find out how the device worked, for he had been forbidden to have one by his uncle. But soon, he had been able to exchange messages with his betrothed. And although Viktor had been incredibly busy, they had managed to get to know each other better this way.

“But still,” Yuuri said then, shifting a little underneath him. “I must admit that I am… what is the word… uncertain about my position here.”

“Your position?” Viktor asked with a frown.

“My… my role,” Yuuri tried to explain. “My duties. What… what I’m supposed to be in your life.”

“Oh.” Viktor blinked in surprise. “I thought I had made that clear.”

Yuuri frowned softly. “To ask me to let me love you is sadly not as accurate as it should be,” he said.

“Indeed,” Viktor murmured and licked his lips. “Then I shall tell you. I want you to be my mate, my partner, my friend, my lover, my confidante, my everything. The one to whom I can turn when life becomes unbearable. I want to be able to come home to someone who takes me the way I am. Someone I can trust completely. Someone who will make a home for me, and bear my children. But first and foremost, I want you to be the one whose heart I own, and who owns mine.” He paused, Yuuri staring at him in amazement. “I know this all sounds terribly cheesy and silly, but there you have it. I know I am a hopeless romantic.”

“That… you are indeed,” Yuuri said slowly, the blush on his face having only intensified. “You… you want me to own your heart?”

Viktor nodded. “You already have it.”

The omega swallowed thickly, the meaning of Viktor’s words too much for him to fully comprehend, and he needed a few moments to himself, not saying a word.

Finally, he met his alpha’s gaze again. “I was told not to expect anything from marriage,” he said. “That I would only give. And… and not own.”

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and kissed their wedding ring. “You own not only me, but also everything that belongs me,” he said. “Never forget that.”

Yuuri curled his toes nervously, biting his lip and averting his gaze once more. “I have been brought up to believe in very different values,” he murmured. “Values that you might not understand. Values that I cannot simply overcome. I… I will never be like the omegas here.” He looked at Viktor again, his beautiful, brown eyes full of worry. “I will never carry myself with the same confidence. I know I said that I wanted to be free but I don’t know how that works. I have absolutely no idea how to behave now and what my place is and—”

“Yuuri!” Viktor breathed and cupped the omega’s cheek as his mate’s breath hitched in his throat, and he pressed their foreheads together. “Yuuri, never would I ask you to change who you are. Never would I ask of you to abandon your values or your traditions. All I want is that you feel safe and comfortable with me, and loved.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, needing a few moments to calm down again. Viktor patiently waited, caressing his mate’s cheeks in a soothing manner. Finally, Yuuri’s breathing had become a little more even again, and he managed to meet Viktor’s gaze.

Never before had the alpha seen the omega so insecure.

“I was taught to love, serve, and obey,” Yuuri whispered. “That is… that is all I can do right now, Viktor.”

“Then do just that,” Viktor told him and kissed him tenderly. “Do what feels right for you. Test the waters if you feel like it. Try what appeals to you. Take all the time in the world to find your inner strength. I will be with you always. And I will always like you so, even when you start talking back at me.”

“I could never—”

“Not yet, maybe,” Viktor said softly. “But I will meet you where you are.”

Yuuri seemed stunned into silence, looking up at him with his brown eyes that Viktor loved so dearly already, in them a shimmer of awe.

“Will you… will you guide me until then?” the omega asked softly.

“Of course,” Viktor murmured and pressed their lips together, loving and tender. Yuuri melted into the kiss, shyly at first, but following his husband’s lead. It would take them time to truly adjust to each other, to truly become mates, but Viktor had no doubt that it would come this way. Until then, he would guide Yuuri, like any good alpha that had claimed a new omega. A young omega, newly mated, was always helpless and needed guidance in every aspect. They always clung to their alpha, needing their attention and care, especially in the first few months of marriage.

Viktor deepened their kiss, gently holding Yuuri in his embrace. Yuuri’s arms found their way around his neck, slowly, hesitant but almost hopeful, as if not sure of what he was doing, if it was right, or even allowed. But Viktor melted into his touch, and so did Yuuri in return. As Viktor placed his hand on his thigh, the omega obediently parted his legs, pulling Viktor closer as if out of instinct.

“Are you sure?” Viktor whispered between kisses, pulling away ever so slightly and caressing his mate’s thigh. “You were in discomfort earlier. I don’t want to rush things.”

Yuuri blushed. “The discomfort will pass,” he said. “And I…” He blushed even more. “I can smell your desire.”

Now it was Viktor’s turn to blush. “Ah, I… well…” He laughed nervously. “I cannot hide it from you, can I?”

“We are bonded now,” Yuuri said softly. “To know and feel that you desire me… it is the greatest honour.”

Viktor looked at his mate in awe, overwhelmed with the trust that Yuuri had for him. He bowed his head, their foreheads touching as he kissed him softly on the lips. “Then let me love you,” he whispered.

Yuuri lay back against the plush pillows, leaving it to Viktor to guide him.

Viktor was incredibly careful, his hand caressing the thigh of his mate, the other carefully opening him up. Yuuri had his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted, taking slow breaths as Viktor’s fingers moved inside him with the greatest care, his thumb massaging him in the hope of bringing him the pleasure he had promised, the pleasure that Yuuri deserved. In their bed, he never wanted Yuuri to feel discomfort ever again, wanted him to feel appreciated and loved, first and foremost.

“O-Oh…” Yuuri breathed all of a sudden, his hand grabbing the pillow under his head.

“Yuuri?” Viktor looked up. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes,” Yuuri whispered, nodding quickly. “That… Can you do it again?”

Viktor blinked, curling his fingers a little. “Like—”

Yuuri gasped, his thighs trembling under Viktor’s touch. Realising that Yuuri had finally found pleasure, Viktor continued, moving his hand a little faster, moving his fingers deeper into him, caressing, feeling, circling. There was wetness on his fingers, on his hands, and above it all, Yuuri’s shy moans. And then, suddenly, Yuuri clenched around his fingers, and a gush of wetness poured over his hand, smelling so divine that Viktor could hardly bear it.

His mate was breathing heavily still as Viktor withdrew his fingers from him, then shoved his legs further apart and finally pushed inside him with such ease. Yuuri whimpered, overwhelmed by the sensation, holding onto Viktor for dear life. The alpha growled, a sound coming from deep inside his throat, and he buried his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck as he moved inside him, slowly yet steadily, each thrust for Yuuri only, each thrust only meant for him. His omega whined in pleasure, moving his hips together with Viktor’s. Could it be, Viktor wondered, that his mate was feeling what he could feel, that he was chasing the same bliss?

“V-Viktor…” Yuuri mewled. “M-More…”

Viktor did as he wished, moving a little faster, afraid of hurting his mate again, but Yuuri clung to him, wrapped his legs around his hips, unwilling to let go. And then, he tightened around Viktor again, and again, wetness streaming out of him and onto the sheets. Viktor groaned, his hands gripping Yuuri’s hips tighter as he thrust into him hard, his instincts as an alpha getting the better of him as he claimed his omega. Yuuri kept whimpering, his thighs around Viktor’s hips trembling as he calmed down from his second climax in a row, the friction overstimulating him, but he kept still, allowing his alpha to enjoy him, until finally, Viktor followed him into the heights of pleasure.

For a long time, they stayed like this, Viktor buried deep inside Yuuri, their arms wrapped around each other as they basked in the afterglow of their mating. His mate was trembling in his arms, his soft pants breaking the silence between them, and Viktor felt the urge to never let go of him again – to hold him in his arms forever, to protect him from the rest of the world.

Oh, what a most precious omega he had been given.

Yuuri whined as Viktor tried to withdraw from him, the omega’s hands holding him close. “Please… don’t…” He whimpered, clenching around him as if to keep him there, and Viktor stilled in his movements immediately. Raising his head, he watched his mate attentively, watched the pearls of sweat on Yuuri’s forehead, the flush on his cheeks, the arch of his back, the angle in which Yuuri was showing his neck. Only then, it dawned on Viktor that his mate had entered a state of pure bliss, the sheer please that had washed over him having satisfied Yuuri’s most primal needs. It was a state Viktor had only ever heard about, but had never been the reason for, and it filled him with immense pride to have brought his omega to this. To see Yuuri like this, the omega trusting him with his body, submitting to him completely, the urge to be mated by him consuming Yuuri’s entire being.

And so, Viktor lay down on top of him again, careful not to crush his mate, and remained deep inside him. A pleasant purr came from Yuuri in return as Viktor nuzzled his neck affectionately. Every now and then, Viktor would give his mate a few, gentle thrusts, and Yuuri would gasp and tighten around him over and over again, and Viktor would fill him with his seed, until they both fell asleep, thoroughly sated.

* * *

Yuuri was alone as he woke the following morning. His body was aching all over from their wedding night, but Yuuri did not mind. For it was good pain, and a reminder of the fact that he had been able to please his mate.

He rolled onto his back with a gentle groan, resting his hand on his stomach and finding the gentle swell that had not been there before. Yuuri smiled to himself at the thought of it, of the proof of Viktor’s claiming. From now on, he would be only his. From now on, he would only bow to him. To his alpha.

Even now, hours later, he could feel the fervour and passion of Viktor’s loins. He could still feel the alpha’s hands on his body, his grip on his hips and his lips on his neck as he had claimed him as his omega, his touch still lingering on his skin. Viktor had been passionate yet gentle at the same time, and it had felt only natural to Yuuri to give himself to him.

Thinking of the things he had been taught about his first mating, and about his wedding night, Yuuri found that only little of it had actually come true. The discomfort had been distracting at first, and yes, he had bled. But like that, he had proven his worth to his alpha, and that he had come to his bed unflawed.

And that was something no one would ever be able to take from him.

Yuuri turned his head, looking at the neatly folded nagajuban lying on the chair by the dressing table. He would preserve this piece of clothing, never wash it, and never wear it again. But it would be proof of his virtue upon marriage, and protect his honour, for as long as he lived. He knew that this was not a tradition in Russia or the Western world in general, where an omega could mate freely before marriage without being regarded flawed or broken. But in their social circles, in the world of the Yakuza, Bratva, and other criminal societies, an omega’s virtue was still of immense worth. To claim an untouched omega was still considered a privilege, and the omegas in question of incredible value.

Naturally, Viktor had been incredibly pleased to have a flawless mate in his bed.

And Yuuri was incredibly proud.

He let out a sigh, which turned into a yawn, and he rolled over in bed, wrapping the duvet tighter around himself to stay warm. The bedding was soft against his skin, its fabric of the finest quality, like everything else in the house. Yuuri had only seen little of it, for he had been carried from the dining hall straight to his bedroom by his alpha, but what he had seen had told him that Viktor Nikiforov lived in sheer luxury – and that he would now live in it, too.

It was certainly not the life he had imagined for himself. But Yuuri had chosen it, and had to make the best of it. Even pouring his heart out a little to Viktor, telling him of his concerns about his new life, had not chased the alpha away. No. Viktor was just as kind as he had been before.

Viktor was good.

Yuuri did not hear the door open, noticing only that he was not alone anymore when the mattress dipped under the weight of another person, and Viktor’s lips touched his temple.

“Good morning, my jewel,” he whispered, caressing Yuuri’s hair. “Are you awake yet?”

Yuuri let out a gentle groan and opened his eyes, finding his alpha looking down at him. Viktor wore a plaid dressing gown, his hair looking so unfairly good despite being unkempt.

“I am now,” Yuuri murmured and rolled onto his back again. “Did I sleep for too long?”

Viktor shook his head. “I wanted you to get as much sleep as you need,” he replied softly, his hand moving down from Yuuri’s hair to his stomach, caressing it gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Very good,” Yuuri said, glancing at Viktor’s hand. It felt good, he thought, to have his alpha’s hand on his belly so protectively.

“You are not in pain?” Viktor asked in surprise. “I… I was told that in the beginning…”

“There is some discomfort,” Yuuri admitted. “But it is good pain.”

Viktor smiled. “If you say so,” he said and bent down to kiss his forehead. “I’m glad you were able to adjust to me. It made me very happy that you were able to feel pleasure in our mating.”

Yuuri turned a light shade of pink at that. “It was very… very nice,” he said quietly. “I am glad I can do my duty to you and enjoy it.”

“Ah, don’t say such things, my jewel,” Viktor sighed. “I don’t want you to see it as your duty to mate with me.”

Yuuri blinked. “But it is one,” he said. “The laws in both Japan and Russia state that an alpha has full possession and control of their omega’s—”

“I know, darling,” Viktor interrupted him gently. “But at least the Russian law also states that an alpha must not take advantage of their omega, and that mating with force is prohibited. That means that I will only mate with you if you allow it, only if you enjoy it, and that I will respect your wishes if you say no.”

Yuuri frowned a little as he listened to his husband, the words slowly sinking in. He had known that the Russian law granted omegas many liberties, especially married once. Legally, he was Viktor’s property now, yes – but that only secured his status in society. His freedom as a person with the right to choose for himself, to say no to things, yes, even to get a divorce – all of this was not in Viktor’s hands.

A free omega was a concept that Yuuri found hard to grasp, despite the fact he had always wanted it. He had wanted to be able to choose for himself. To live a life in dignity, a life that he could shape in any way he wanted. Viktor had promised him all these things, and it seemed that he intended to keep his promise to him.

“I know that you find it difficult to adjust to your new life,” Viktor continued, caressing Yuuri’s cheek with his thumb. “And I’m ready to meet you where you are. To be fair, it is quite charming and flattering to my ego to have an omega in my care that is so devoted to me from the very beginning,” he added with a small smile. “And I know it is not just because we are bonded.” He took Yuuri’s hand into his own and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to his wrist, right above his pulse. “You are very attracted to me, are you not, my jewel?”

Yuuri blushed even more. “I-is that not a good thing?”

“A very good thing,” Viktor hummed and let go of Yuuri’s hand again. “That, and your complete obedience to me are very important factors in our marriage. It might save your life one day.”

Yuuri said nothing, looking at Viktor as the older man glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

“You know, I have not forgotten a single word of what you told me all those months ago, in Tokyo,” Viktor said thoughtfully. “When I asked you what you wanted from life, you said: To desire what I want, to get what I want, to have what I want. To simply have the possibility of wanting, wishing, and desiring. It is not that I yearn for goods and riches. But to have the possibility, the permission, the right to dream, and to hope, and to get.”

Yuuri felt himself turn a dark red at the repetition of his words. Had he truly said all of those things? Hearing them now, from the man he had been given to and had bonded with, sounded so incredibly scandalous. No, a proper omega did not say such things. A good omega did not demand things. Did not wish for things.

But Viktor, his alpha, did not seem to mind any of it at all.

“I know it cost you a lot of strength that night to say all these things so freely,” Viktor said. “But I meant what I said as a response. I’ll give you the world if you only let me love you, my jewel. And if you love me in return, I’d be the happiest man on earth. Love me once you can. Until then, I’ll be perfectly happy if you serve and obey me.”

Once more, Viktor bent down to kiss him, this time on the lips, and Yuuri could not help but melt into it.

It was one thing, he had quickly realised, to have a husband who looked after him. But to have said husband actually care for him, his wellbeing, and his wishes as an omega was more than he would have ever dared to hope for. Their bond was not a forced one – no, Yuuri had given himself to the alpha willingly, and therein lay the difference. It was why his submission to him did not exclude his desire for having a mind of his own. It was part of his nature of submit to his alpha, and the mere thought of doing so made Yuuri incredibly happy, for the attraction to Viktor was oh so very real.

Perhaps destiny had brought him to Viktor, Yuuri thought as he melted further into the kiss, feeling his alpha’s affection for him through their bond, and he purred contentedly.

Viktor pulled away from the kiss a moment later, chuckling at the adorable blush on his omega’s cheeks. “How lovely you look,” he said softly. “I shall kiss you many more times today if I always get such a sweet purr in return.”

Yuuri promptly hid his face behind his hands in embarrassment, which made Viktor laugh. “Oh, my most precious jewel!” He exclaimed and shook his head. “You have no idea how much I like it to hear you purr so happily.”

As if to prove his point, Viktor began to caress Yuuri’s stomach again, the most sensitive area of his body, and the omega could barely suppress the soft purrs that the gesture provoked. Instinctively, he curled his toes and moved closer to his alpha, leaning into his touch.

“I was told that I would have a most fertile omega in my bed,” Viktor hummed as he stroked the gentle swell of Yuuri’s stomach. “And I must admit it would please me very much if you were bearing me a child. Would that make you happy, my jewel?”

Yuuri purred softly, the thought of having Viktor’s child growing inside him making his heart flutter in excitement. “Very much so,” he whispered.

“Good,” Viktor murmured and pressed another kiss to his temple before he rose from the bed to take off his dressing gown. Yuuri rolled onto his back again, parting his legs as his husband climbed over him, and closed his eyes.

* * *

A maid brought them breakfast half an hour later, her mere presence making Yuuri shiver uncomfortably. He had never been good with strangers, especially when it came to personnel, but Viktor had assured him that if there was anyone he was unable to get along with, he could send them away at any time. But the maid seemed nice enough, Yuuri told himself as Viktor exchanged a few words with her. Her name was Yulia, he learnt, and responsible for keeping his rooms and clothes clean and in order.

“You will meet the rest of them at some point,” Viktor said once Yulia had left and poured Yuuri a cup of tea. “All of them are Russian. I want you to become fluent as soon as possible, and they are good way to practise. To me, you may speak either Russian or English, I don’t care, but I must say I find it most enchanting when you speak Russian.” He smiled at Yuuri and put the tea pot down again, gesturing at the tray full of food. “I hope you like it. The kitchens will prepare anything you like, of course.”

Yuuri did not even know where to start. The tray was filled with toast, butter, marmalade, ham, scrambled eggs, yoghurt, fruit, besides a separate tray with coffee, tea, juice, water, and so much more.

“Is it not to your liking?” Viktor asked worriedly when Yuuri did not move. “Would you like a Japanese breakfast instead?”

Yuuri shook his head immediately. “It is just so much, and I have never had breakfast in bed,” he admitted. “I don’t know where to begin.”

Viktor laughed. “Oh, my jewel, don’t you worry. Eat as much or as little as you like. No need to finish it all, I promise.” He took a sip from his cup of coffee and reached for the newspaper the maid had brought in as well. “While you eat, think of where you would like to go for our honeymoon. The maids need to know so they can pack your suitcases accordingly for tonight.”

Yuuri almost choked on his tea.

“Our honeymoon?”

“Well, yes?” Viktor looked up from the paper. “I intend to get to know you better far away from this place. It may be our home, yes, but a honeymoon is much better to strengthen our bond, don’t you think?”

Yuuri nodded, mostly for a lack of knowing what to say to that. Of course, Viktor was right, but he had not thought that the Pakhan would allow himself to take time off just to travel with him.

“Think of places you always wanted to see,” Viktor hummed as he picked up the newspaper again. “Everything is possible.”

Yuuri silently drank his tea and ate his breakfast, trying to do as Viktor had suggested. Of course there were places he had always wanted to see, places he had only ever seen on television or on pictures. Rome, for example, Paris, the coast of Cornwall, the Scottish Highlands, the valleys of Iceland, the Niagara Falls, Toronto, Washington, New York, Madrid, Santiago de Compostela, Cape Town, Nairobi, Sydney, Auckland, Hawaii, Cairo, Berlin…

“Well?” Viktor asked after a few pages of reading. “Any idea?”

“There… there are so many places,” Yuuri said softly, absentmindedly playing with his golden wedding ring. “I can’t possibly decide which one to choose…”

“What are they, then?” Viktor wanted to know, and Yuuri bashfully gave him the full list.

After he had finished, Viktor thoughtfully sipped his coffee, and Yuuri was sure that his alpha would laugh at him for not being able to decide. But the laughter never came.

Instead, Viktor put his cup down and said: “Quite an interesting honeymoon this will be, if we are going to see all these places.”

Yuuri dropped his teacup.

* * *

Of course, Viktor owned not only one private plane, but several ones.

For their honeymoon, he had chosen the most luxurious one, it seemed, its interior even more sumptuous than the one of the plane he had sent to get Yuuri to Russia. The moment they entered the large cabin, Yuuri found himself surrounded by a pair of stewardesses, greeting him as if he were the Queen, even bowing to him as if they had been studying Japanese manners just for this occasion. Yuuri smiled nervously at them, grateful for Viktor’s hand on the small of his back that guided him to their seats that were more like massive armchairs.

“You look divine in that coat, you know,” Viktor said, taking a seat as a stewardess helped Yuuri out of the heavy piece of clothing the maids at home had dressed him in. It was December after all, and therefore cold. “But I like seeing you like this nonetheless.”

Yuuri blushed, instinctively wrapping an arm around his middle. His stomach was still very much rounded, the cream cashmere pullover hugging his figure just right to accentuate the swell.

Viktor chuckled. “Ah, come here, my jewel,” he said, taking Yuuri’s hand and pulling him closer to sit on his lap. “There is no need to be ashamed of the proof of our mating. Let the world see how much I adore you.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Yuuri murmured, his ears pink nonetheless. “I just don’t want them to look.”

“Oh?” Viktor frowned and quickly said something to the stewardess bringing them tea and coffee that allowed no discussion. The woman immediately nodded and kept her gaze lowered.

“There,” Viktor said, kissing Yuuri’s temple. “I won’t have them look at you. I know how much you hate being surrounded by strangers.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“But I wanted to,” Viktor interrupted him calmly and grasped his chin ever so gently so that Yuuri had no choice but to look at him. “No one shall ever look at you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, my jewel. What I say they will do. And your wish is my command. You understand?”

Yuuri merely nodded.

“Good.” Viktor kissed him gently on the lips and then let him settle against his chest. “We’ll fly to Cape Town first. I’ve booked us a lovely holiday home right at the bay, with a private beach.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Is that not too much?”

“Darling, nothing is ever too much when it is for you,” Viktor hummed and kissed his hair. “And besides, I want you all to myself.”

Yuuri said nothing to that, having learnt quickly enough that it was impossible to argue with Viktor about what was necessary and what was not. And if Viktor wanted to book a private holiday home, then he certainly would not stop him.

Much to his surprise, he was not told to return to his own seat for the start, remaining on Viktor’s lap with his alpha’s arm around his middle. Yuuri, who had only flown two or three times before, tensed up a little as the plane left the ground, his distress reaching Viktor through the bond. Promptly, his alpha held him closer, and caressed his belly through the soft fabric of his pullover in an attempt to soothe him. Yuuri let out a gentle groan, burying his face in the crook of Viktor’s neck, trying to ignore the rumble of the engines and focus on his alpha’s scent instead, like he had been taught. Viktor’s arms around him were incredibly comforting, and so was his calming scent, reminding him that he was not alone, that his alpha was with him to keep him safe. And so, he managed not to listen to the sounds of the plane, trying to think of the nice things they were going to see on their honeymoon instead.

It was unbelievable, Yuuri realised, now that he thought about it. Just a few days ago, he had been home in Hasetsu, and had spent time with his mother and sister. Now he was married, bonded, and claimed, belonging to the most powerful alpha in the western hemisphere.

And his alpha was determined to give him the world.

Yuuri would not have noticed the hand slipping between his thighs had it not been for the fingers pleasuring him through the fabric of his leggings, making him gasp in surprise.

“I’ve been told,” Viktor whispered into his ear as he moved his fingers in small circles, “that such little pleasures may keep an omega calm and content. I would hate for you to be afraid, my jewel.”

Viktor’s fingers pushed a little firmer against the fabric and Yuuri held his breath as he felt the warmth and wetness between his thighs.

“I’m really glad you chose those leggings,” Viktor hummed. “Not only do they hug your bottom so very nicely, but they also make it rather easy to keep you happy…” His hand moved up to the band of the leggings, pulling them down just enough to push his hand inside. Yuuri whined, holding onto Viktor’s shoulders as he felt his alpha’s fingers tease him, the sensation overwhelming despite the soreness following their wedding night. But Viktor held him close, his lips moving down to Yuuri’s neck, leaving a mark there.

“H…haa…” Yuuri breathed as two fingers slipped into him, biting his lip hard to keep himself from moaning louder. Much to his shock, the stewardesses entered the cabin a moment later, but Viktor kept him firmly in his embrace, his fingers curling inside Yuuri as the stewardesses served their dinner, as if the Pakhan were not pleasuring his mate right in front of them.

Yuuri was sure he would die of shame then and there, had he not been forced into submission by his alpha. And so, he held still, allowing Viktor to do with him as he pleased, mewling as a third finger entered him.

“Such a good darling I have there,” Viktor whispered into his ear. “The things I will do to you… you won’t ever think of another man again…”

“I… would never…!” Yuuri gasped as he suddenly clenched around Viktor’s fingers, wetness streaming over his alpha’s hands and soaking both leggings and underwear, and he went limp in his alpha’s arms.

“That’s right,” Viktor murmured, kissing Yuuri’s jaw gently. “My most precious jewel. My most submissive jewel. All mine.”

It took Yuuri a while to calm down from the sudden wave of pleasure, but resting in Viktor’s arms and listening to his heartbeat certainly helped. A stewardess that Viktor had called in brought them a soft towel, which Viktor used to clean his mate a little after he had pulled off his leggings and underwear. Yuuri then sat like this, bare from the waist down with only a towel to soak up any remaining fluids, on the lap of his alpha, who fed him the most delicious pieces from the plates before them.

“You have no idea how lovely you smell now,” Viktor sighed, nuzzling Yuuri’s lap as the stewardesses came to take the empty plates away, none of them batting an eye at the fact that the omega was half naked before them. “So divine. And only for me.”

Yuuri shifted nervously on his lap, glad that the towel protected at least some of his modesty.

“You… don’t mind that they can…”

“They are betas,” Viktor said. “And besides…” He cupped Yuuri’s cheek. “I’d have you in front of thousands, only to show the world that you are mine, and mine alone.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly at the hidden threat in his alpha’s words, at the promise that allowed no dissent. And once more, he had to remind himself of the fact that he was Viktor’s now, and Viktor’s alone. That his life lay in the hands of the alpha who only wanted Yuuri to let him love him in return. Who gave so much, and only asked for so little.

“I’m forever yours, Viktor,” Yuuri said softly. “Nothing could ever change that.”

At that, the alpha smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish all of you the most wonderful, most happy holidays! ❤❤❤🎄  
> Use the time to relax from work, from uni, school, or whatever it is that keeps you busy. Spend time with friends and family and have tons of great food!


	5. Ruby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who should be studying for an oral exam about Hamlet?
> 
> But what can I say - 100000 % that bitch Yuuri is my aesthetic.

To Phichit, it turned out to be incredibly easy to settle into his new life – not just because of the impressive pay check Chris handed to him.

“This is half of my yearly allowance at home,” he breathed, slowly sitting down on the sofa in Chris’ study, staring at the piece of paper in his hands in amazement.

Chris merely chuckled, getting each of them a cup of coffee from the machine. “Welcome to the Bratva,” he said, handing Phichit his drink, “where loyalty is rewarded most generously, and the coffee beans cost more than my health insurance.” He sat down on the sofa beside Phichit, watching the other man whisper the exact amount of his monthly salary under his breath. “And besides, Yuuri-sama likes you. He even offered you to drop the honorific of which Viktor insists that everyone uses it. Not even I am allowed to just call him Yuuri, and I was the one who arranged the marriage.” He huffed, taking a small sip from his coffee.

“Well…” Phichit folded the paper in half and stuffed it back into the envelope it had come in. “I’m just doing my best.”

“And Viktor noticed that,” Chris said. “That being said, he wants to see you later, when Yuuri-sama is studying.”

“The Pakhan wants to see me?” Phichit said in surprise. He had only spoken to the man in passing, when Viktor had come in to see his mate, and it had never been more than just a polite exchange of pleasantries. What could the Pakhan possibly want from him?

“No need to be worried, cheri,” Chris assured him, crossing his legs casually. “He is very pleased with you, just like Yuuri-sama. I think he only wants to hear how you are getting along. He takes the wellbeing of his omega very seriously.”

“Yes, I noticed that,” Phichit said, taking a sip from his own coffee, moaning at the great taste. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he hurried to say when he realised what kind of sound he had just made.

But Chris merely smiled. “I’ve heard it all, cheri,” he said. “Although I must say that you sound most exquisite. But yes…” He sighed. “Yuuri-sama’s physical and mental health are very important to Viktor. That is why you are here, after all. An omega companion was something Viktor has had on his mind for some time, but he was always hesitant about it. I think Yuuri-sama did not want to admit that he was, well, a little lonely here.”

Phichit crossed his legs. “I’ve noticed he doesn’t really have… any friends here,” he said. “Or am I wrong?”

“Absolutely not,” Chris said softly. “Yuuri has struggled greatly to settle in after the wedding, and let’s be honest, this place is not exactly where an omega like him could make friends. Viktor’s men are not good company for him, and except for the occasional visit of young Yuri Plisetsky, he’s hardly surrounded by people he might befriend. Yuuri-sama would never complain, though. He claimed to be content, but Viktor sensed that something was wrong. Believe me, Phichit, we are all glad you are here.”

“But it’s been barely a month,” Phichit frowned.

“But your effect on Yuuri has been immense so far, from what I can tell,” Chris said and glanced at his watch. “Ah, it’s almost ten. I think you should get going and wake Yuuri. Don’t worry about running into Viktor, he’s in his favourite torture chamber as we speak.”

“His favourite torture chamber?” Phichit repeated with wide eyes. “But you said he doesn’t bring business here.”

Chris winked. “I mean the gym in the basement,” he said. “Don’t tell him I’ve said that, but our dear Pakhan is not the youngest anymore and has to take care of his back.”

The Swiss rose from the sofa and walked back to his desk with the coffee cup in his hand. “By the way, you know that the charity gala is coming up?”

Phichit nodded, drinking the rest of his coffee. “Yes, I’ve read the leaflets and everything. I’m quite surprised that the Pakhan is so…”

“Progressive?” Chris smiled knowingly. “My dear, if you had known the Pakhan for as long as I have, you wouldn’t be surprised at all. Anyway, this charity is very important for both Viktor and Yuuri-sama. I assume you have a suit appropriate for such an event?”

“I think so,” Phichit said slowly as it finally dawned on him. “Am I supposed to attend, too?”

“You are Yuuri-sama’s companion,” Chris said nonchalantly. “What do you think?”

And so, Phichit found himself mentally going through all of his suits on the way to Yuuri’s bedroom. He had been rather busy the previous days working with the seamstress that was making Yuuri’s dress, and had entirely forgotten to ask if he was supposed to come to the gala as well. But, of course, Chris was right. As Yuuri’s companion – and friend, as the omega stressed daily – he would be required to go, if only to keep an eye on Yuuri and make sure he was comfortable. He doubted that Yuuri enjoyed such social gatherings, being surrounded by other alphas and omegas that kept staring at him for being the Pakhan’s mate.

As if Yuuri’s social anxiety did not make things bad enough already.

“Good morning, Yulia,” he greeted the maid waiting outside Yuuri’s room with his breakfast. “How is your mother doing?”

“Much better, thank you,” Yulia answered. “Is the Pakhan inside?”

“No, he’s up already,” Phichit said. “No reason to worry about running into him naked this time,” he added with a laugh, thinking back to a morning two weeks ago when they had both entered Yuuri’s bedroom, only to walk into an entirely naked Viktor Nikiforov on the very important quest of searching for his boxers. Yulia had dropped the breakfast tray in shock, and Phichit had immediately covered his eyes with his hands.

There just were things one did not want to see first thing in the morning.

Yulia sighed in relief, straightening her shoulders as Phichit approached the door and knocked three times before going in. It was dark in the room, the heavy curtains still drawn, barely letting in any light from outside. Yuuri lay buried under a pile of blankets, hiding his face from the world.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Phichit said softly and went to the opposite window, opening the curtains. “Time for breakfast.”

Yuuri let out an indignant groan from under his duvet, rolling over in an attempt to escape the light, but Phichit, as always, knew no mercy and kept opening curtain after curtain until the room was flooded with sunlight.

Phichit then walked over to the bed, picking up a few pillows and piling them up against the headboard for Yuuri to lean on. “Yulia has a Japanese breakfast for you, Yuuri. The miso soup smells delicious.”

He left Yuuri’s side again and went to the walk-in closet next door to pick something for Yuuri to wear, comfortable clothing for ballet practise first, then a pair of tights and an oversized sweater for his lessons that would follow. Phichit had quickly learnt that Yuuri was not too fond of wearing jeans around the house, and preferred clothing that was, well, easy to take off.

After all, the Pakhan tended to desire his mate at all hours of the day.

When Phichit came back, Yuuri had sat up, his hair unkempt from sleep, and his glasses a little askew on his nose as Yulia placed the breakfast tray on his lap. Yuuri thanked her quietly and reached for the bowl with soup, taking a sip, sighing contentedly. Only then, Phichit noticed that Yuuri’s face was a little redder than usual, and that he appeared more exhausted than he usually was after getting up in the morning.

“Did you not sleep well?” Phichit asked, placing the clothes on the free side of the bed.

Yuuri shook his head lightly. “It is my most fertile time of the month,” he murmured. “Viktor has been working day and night and has no time for me.”

“Why not have some fun on your own?” Phichit suggested.

Yuuri looked at him with a frown. “I would never,” he said in earnest. “My body is Viktor’s. Only his to enjoy.”

“Right,” Phichit murmured, remembering once more how Yuuri had been brought up, and what values the omega still held for himself.

“I will be patient,” Yuuri murmured and picked up the bowl with steaming rice. “Viktor is a very busy man, and I respect that.” He reached up, tugging a little on the fabric of his sleeping shirt. “But I must admit that my chest aches terribly these days.” He looked up at Phichit. “You don’t happen to have something for that?”

“Actually, I do,” Phichit said. “There are various creams for that. To ease the tension a little.”

“Can you get one for me, please?” Yuuri asked hopefully.

“Sure thing,” Phichit said and went to the bathroom next door, going through the cupboard that he had stocked with various things on his second day of work. Most of these things were incredibly expensive items, only the best of the best. Fortunately, it was the Pakhan who happily paid for all sorts of things as long as they helped his omega, which gave Phichit the opportunity to work with the things he thought would be best for Yuuri.

Yuuri had finished his breakfast already when he returned, apparently not wanting to waste any time. He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shirt, holding still as Phichit applied the cream to his chest, hissing at the cool feeling.

“I’ve been told these things lessen with a pregnancy,” he murmured as Phichit rubbed in the cream. “But I guess I am not on the lucky side.”

Phichit’s eyes fell to Yuuri’s stomach, which was entirely flat except for the natural curve of an omega’s belly these days. It was a rare thing to see Yuuri like this, he’d been told by the shocked maids, as the Pakhan usually mated with his omega every single night. But these days, it seemed that the Pakhan was indeed very busy and had no time to indulge his omega.

Which was also quite obvious to see in Yuuri’s recent mood. He had little patience for anything, and spent most of his time either at the ballet studio or in his library, the Pakhan’s dog, Makkachin, always at his side. The dog was with him even now, resting on the free side of the bed, looking at the breakfast tray rather hopefully.

“One day, I’m sure, you will be on the lucky side,” Phichit said and put the lid back on the cream jar. “I suggest not putting on a shirt for ballet practise today. Some air will do your chest only good.”

“I hope so,” Yuuri sighed and rose from the edge of the bed, grabbing his clothes. “I better get going then and make use of my flat stomach for practise. Madame Baranovskaya will be delighted.” There was little joy in Yuuri’s voice as he spoke, but Phichit knew that there was nothing he could say to lift the omega’s spirits.

“I’ll see you later, Phichit,” Yuuri called as he left the room, making his way to the ballet studio. “Makka, come!”

The dog barked, jumping off the bed and knocking over the tray with the remaining food.

Phichit sighed and called the cleaning staff in.

* * *

To be called to the Pakhan himself was, well, an intimidating experience.

Not just because of the grim-looking guards that Chris had warned him of on his very first day, and that were now looking down at him as if he were an insect to be crushed under their feet. The moment he entered the wing of the Pakhan, he was surrounded by the most dangerous men of Russia, all of them looking down at him in both curiosity and respect – which was both intimidating and surprising, as they all seemed to be alphas and not used to having a beta in their midst. These were the men that were doing the dirty work, Phichit realised as he sat down on an antique chair outside the Pakhan’s personal study, trying to ignore the stares of the other men. It was not that he was not used to the company of alphas – after all, his brothers were all alphas, and two of his sisters, too, and his father had never excluded him from the ‘business’ either. But these alphas were the worst of the worst, ready to kill if the Pakhan only waved his hand the wrong way, and clearly not used to having a foreign beta in their midst.

Phichit crossed his legs and clasped his hands on his lap with a small sigh, pretending to be somewhere entirely different.

There was laughter coming from the Pakhan’s study, the sort of laughter that followed after a lewd joke. Phichit pursed his lips, pretending to check his nails as he waited for the current meeting to end. The alpha sitting on the reception desk, a woman with short, red hair, looked up from her computer every now and then.

“Would you like to have some water?” She asked Phichit after fifteen minutes, when the meeting had still not come to an end. 

Phichit glanced at the name plate on the desk.

“No, thank you, Miss Babivecha,” he said with a small smile.

“Oh, call me Mila,” she said, glancing at the closed door with a sigh. “Don’t worry. You’ll get to see him before lunch.”

Phichit nodded, sitting back on the chair and looking out of the window. It was still incredibly cold in Russia, thick layers of snow covering the entire estate, including the vast gardens. He knew that in the warmer months, Yuuri liked to spend the afternoon outside with Makkachin. But in the winter months, it seemed that Yuuri preferred to stay indoors.

“You are Yuuri-sama’s companion, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Phichit looked back at Mila who was studying him with interest. “Yes, I am. Phichit Chulanont.”

“From Thailand?” Mila’s eyes began to sparkle in excitement. “Oh, my wife and I spent our honeymoon in Thailand! What a beautiful country!”

“Oh really? Where did you go?”

“Oh, we first went to Bangkok, then to Phuket…”

She had just begun to give Phichit the full list of her honeymoon experience when the door opened and a few men in suits walked out of the Pakhan’s study, tipping their hats at Mila in greeting. A few of them glanced at Phichit, too, their looks curious as they walked past him out of the reception room.

“You can go in now,” Mila said, nodding at the door. “Come on, don’t be shy. He won’t eat you.”

Phichit rose from the chair, straightening his shoulders and taking a last deep breath before he knocked.

“Come in.”

Phichit opened the door, entering the Pakhan’s study with his gaze lowered.

The Pakhan’s study was surprisingly small, and not at all like Phichit had imagined it. The windows on the opposite wall were just as large as the ones in Yuuri’s rooms, offering a stunning view of the garden. The antique palace tapestry on the walls had been replaced with something more modern, lighter, matching the both old and modern furniture in the room. The largest piece was the Pakhan’s desk, an antique piece made of heavy, dark wood. Behind it on the wall hung a large portrait of a young man in a stunning, dark blue evening gown, sitting on an antique chair and gazing thoughtfully into the distance.

It took Phichit an embarrassingly long moment to realise that the painting showed Yuuri.

“Phichit,” Viktor Nikiforov said and rose from his desk, walking around it to greet him with a handshake. “I’m very pleased to finally get to speak to you in private. I was hoping to do so earlier but I’ve found myself anywhere but near my jewel. Please, take a seat. Would you like a drink? Whiskey, perhaps? Gin? Vodka?”

“O-Oh, nothing for me, thank you,” Phichit said, sitting down as the Pakhan walked over to the cupboard and picked up two glasses as well as a bottle of, thankfully, ordinary water.

“I insist that no guest of mine goes thirsty,” Viktor said and poured the young beta a glass before taking a seat behind his desk again. “Especially if said guest is so very dear to my mate. I must say that I am very pleased with your work.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Phichit smiled. “I am doing my best.”

“And said best is obviously very good for my mate. My jewel hardly shuts up about you,” Viktor said with a small smile. “Tell me, what is your opinion so far? Are you getting along with my Yuuri? I know, he can be terribly moody sometimes.”

“That is to be expected, Sir,” Phichit said and clasped his hands on his lap. “Yuuri-sama was so kind to tell me about how you came to be married, and what kind of life he has led before coming here.”

“Ah, yes,” Viktor said, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his hand with a dreamy sigh. “Let me tell you, when I saw him across the ballroom in Shanghai, I knew I had to make him mine. That otherwise, I’d never be happy again. You have no idea how overjoyed I was when he accepted my proposal.” He smiled at the memory for a moment, only for his face to become serious again. “Although I won’t deny that there have been difficulties at the beginning of our marriage, and his…” He paused for a moment, searching for the right terms. “His mental health has not been the best recently.” The Pakhan seemed rather saddened about this. “I was hoping that by employing you, he would have a friend. A confidante, near at hand. Someone to cheer him up in ways that I can’t. And that you, perhaps, had any advice for me.”

Viktor sighed heavily, looking up at the portrait of the omega behind him rather wistfully. “I love him so dearly, Phichit. I know what he longs for, and I wish I could do something about it.”

Phichit remained silent, watching the Pakhan carefully. For an alpha of his kind, the Pakhan seemed to have a rather tender heart, especially when it came to his mate. It was well-known that if Yuuri only whispered into his ear, Viktor Nikiforov would set the world aflame if it only made the omega happy.

Therefore, to be unable to fulfil Yuuri’s deepest desire, namely a child, had to be a horrible experience for him.

“Can you think of a way to make things… easier for my jewel?” Viktor asked eventually, looking back at the young beta sitting before him. “Anything at all?”

Phichit nervously played with the hem of his sleeve. “I believe Yuuri-sama feels a lot of pressure regarding this issue,” he began carefully. “I doubt that this pressure is put on him intentionally, Sir. But with all the examinations and such—”

“I was told they were of great importance for an omega of his age,” the Pakhan interrupted him in mild surprise. “Are you telling me the opposite?”

“Not quite, Sir,” Phichit said. “But such thorough examinations are only necessary for young, unmated omegas. For him, routine examinations are sufficient that I can perform, too. And besides, those examinations are quite upsetting for him.”

Viktor was quiet for a moment, looking down at the surface of his desk with a thoughtful frown. “They are uncomfortable, I’ve heard.”

“Have you ever been with Yuuri-sama to one of his appointments?”

“No, of course not,” Viktor said immediately. “An alpha should not be present, I was told.”

It seemed to Phichit that the Pakhan had been told a large variety of things.

“They are painful, Sir,” Phichit said softly. “So painful that Yuuri would almost crush my hand. He was almost in tears when we left the surgery.”

Viktor stared at him in complete bewilderment. “Why has he not said anything?” He exclaimed in distress. “Why was I not informed of this?”

“Yuuri-sama said that you had arranged these appointments for him,” Phichit said quickly and bowed his head submissively to the alpha and Pakhan. “He would never—”

“He would never disobey me,” Viktor sighed and rubbed his eyes rather exhaustedly. “I know. Any other alpha would probably appreciate such devotion but I’ve told Yuuri over and over again to tell me when he’s upset about something, regardless of its nature!”

Phichit shrunk on his seat at the Pakhan’s sudden outburst, keeping his mouth shut for his own good.

“But I suppose,” Viktor muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that Yuuri would not say anything because he hoped these examinations would benefit his wish of having a child.”

Phichit had thought the same already, after getting to know Yuuri a little better. He knew that the omega was not as shy and meek and submissive as many people thought – that he could be quite demanding and stubborn, especially when it came to his husband. No, Yuuri was not the sort of omega that blindly followed every order. He had a mind of his own and was not shy to show that to his alpha.

Except in that regard, it seemed.

“If these examinations stop,” Phichit began carefully, “then a great weight would be taken off his shoulders. He would no longer be terrified of every appointment.”

“I shall cancel these appointments immediately,” Viktor nodded firmly and buried his face in his hands. “By God, what was I thinking. What was I thinking!”

“You only wanted the best for your omega, Sir. And Yuuri-sama… he just wants… a baby.”

Viktor pursed his lips at that, then, he reached for the button on his desk that connected him to the reception. “Mila, please cancel all appointments with Dr. Komarova.”

“A-All of them, Sir?” The secretary asked in confusion.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Viktor snapped. “All of them!”

He let go of the button, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his face with a heavy sigh. It was a rare sight, Phichit thought, to see an alpha like this – in such distress and personal shame, all because of an omega.

“From now on,” Viktor murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, “Yuuri will see a doctor only when it is absolutely necessary. I won’t have my mate worrying like that.”

Phichit nodded. “An excellent idea, Sir.”

Viktor lowered his hands again, reaching for the water before him and taking a large sip. He was so upset that his hands were trembling, as Phichit noted with surprise.

“If it were not for you, Phichit, I would not have learnt of this, I believe,” Viktor said as he put the glass down again. “You are a good companion to my mate, it seems.”

Phichit blushed. “I’m… I’m his friend, Sir,” he said.

“Even better, then,” Viktor said and rose from his desk, Phichit promptly getting to his feet as well. “I believe I should speak with him and, well, sort a few things out. I feel terrible about this.”

“You only wanted the best for him, Sir,” Phichit said. “But yes. I think speaking to him directly is the best you can do.”

“He is probably in his ballet studio now, at this time of the day,” Viktor murmured, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “I won’t keep you from your work any longer, Phichit. I’m sure you have quite a lot to do. Ah, that reminds me…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening the calendar. “The charity gala is in five days. You know that everyone is supposed to come with a partner?”

“No, Sir,” Phichit said with a small frown. “I am hearing about this just now.”

The Pakhan waved dismissively with his hand. “Not to worry. Go as Christophe Giacometti’s plus one. I know for a fact he’ll be delighted.”

At that, Phichit blushed furiously, but the Pakhan only shook his hand. “Thank you, Phichit. Truly.”

“Y-You’re welcome, Sir,” the young beta said, and before he knew it, he found himself outside the Pakhan’s office again, a ridiculously large bonus check in his hand, and a confused yet curious Mila watching him from the corner of her eye.

“He’s cancelled all of his appointments for the day,” she hummed. “You don’t happen to know anything about that?”

Phichit could merely shrug.

* * *

One of the first things that Viktor had installed in the basement of his home after Yuuri’s arrival was a greenhouse, including a large swimming pool and a large variety of flora. After all, his mate had grown up in Kyushu, in a subtropical climate, and was not used at all to the cold and harsh Russian winters. Viktor had wanted for his mate to have a place where it would be never cold, where he could enjoy an eternal summer; a place he would withdraw to when he missed his home’s climate too much.

After finding the ballet studio empty, and the library abandoned, he had known that this would be where he would find his Yuuri.

Taking off his suit jacket and leaving it by the door, Viktor entered the greenhouse, the warmth embracing him at once, making him once more realise how cold Russian winters actually were – and how much, he thought ruefully, his Yuuri had to freeze, so far away from home.

The greenhouse itself was a small masterpiece, Viktor had to admit. He would never forget Yuuri’s face upon discovering it, how his beautiful, intelligent eyes had begun to sparkle, and how he had thrown himself into Viktor’s arms in sheer gratitude.

They had made love right there, against the glass wall, outside a raging blizzard.

Viktor spotted his mate on the other side of the greenhouse, resting on a chaise longue by the water, clad in nothing but one of his most exquisite bathing suits that left nothing to imagination. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling evenly, and Viktor realised that Yuuri had most likely dozed off.

He approached his mate as quietly as possible, sitting down on the edge of the chaise longue beside him, simply admiring his mate. Yuuri was always a sight to behold, regardless of how much or how little he wore. There were omegas that had to use clothing and jewellery in order to enchant, but not his Yuuri. No, Yuuri had this pride and elegance about him wherever he went, a power that had lured Viktor in from the very beginning.

It was just one of the many qualities of his mate that Viktor loved so very much.

His gaze then fell onto Yuuri’s belly, which was flat besides the natural curve that had always been there. It was rare, Viktor thought, to see his mate like this, with no seed of the alpha inside him. Had it truly been that long since they had last enjoyed each other?

Had he truly neglected his Yuuri for such a long time?

“I’m sorry, my jewel,” Viktor whispered and bent down, pressing a tender kiss to his lover’s lips.

Yuuri sleepily opened his eyes, blinking a few times in confusion as he came to his senses. “Viktor…” He murmured, slowly sitting up, and Viktor moved his arm around Yuuri’s waist as he made space for him. “What are you doing here?”

“Can a man not want to see the love of his life?” Viktor asked softly in return, pecking Yuuri’s lips once more. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Yuuri huffed, much like a child that didn’t want to admit that it was tired, just to stay up a little longer with the grown-ups. “I thought you were busy…”

“I was,” Viktor said. “But then I realised that no work could possibly be more important than my most precious jewel.”

Yuuri blushed all the way down to his navel hidden under the bathing suit at these words.

“I haven’t seen you for days,” he murmured, averting his gaze. “I was beginning to wonder if the Leroy’s had gotten you.”

Viktor laughed heartily at that, pulling Yuuri onto his lap and into his arms. “As if I’d let JJ get me,” he said, kissing Yuuri’s hair and breathing in the omega’s sweet, alluring scent. “But you are right, my jewel. I haven’t seen you for days. And I’m very sorry about that.”

Yuuri huffed, burying his face in the alpha’s shoulder. “I know you are busy,” he mumbled. “I would never dare to insist that you leave it all just to see me…”

“I honestly wish you had,” Viktor said softly, running his hand up and down Yuuri’s back ever so gently. “Nothing should ever be more important than you, my jewel. Nothing.”

He pulled away just enough to look Yuuri in the eye, cupping the omega’s cheek so carefully as if he were made of glass. Yuuri was so heartbreakingly beautiful, Viktor realised. Not just on the outside. It was his gentle, tender heart that made him beautiful, his ability to love everyone, even someone like him, who had killed people without batting an eye. And he would kill again, kill for Yuuri if he had to, if it only made him happy – if it only kept away the sadness that had slowly crept into his beloved’s heart.

“How have you been?” Viktor asked, caressing Yuuri’s cheekbone with his thumb.

Yuuri sighed, leaning into his touch. “I’m okay,” he said softly. “I missed you.”

Viktor’s heart ached at the sound of that, and he brought Yuuri closer again to kiss his forehead. “I missed you, too,” he said quietly. “Incredibly so.”

Yuuri smiled a little. “I’m not alone, though,” he said. “Thanks to Phichit.”

“You like him very much, it seems.”

“He’s my friend,” Yuuri said softly. “I like talking to him.”

“I understand why,” Viktor hummed. “I’ve been talking to him, too, just now.”

“What about?” Yuuri asked with a frown.

“About your wellbeing,” Viktor replied. “And about the appointments with Dr. Komarova.”

At that, Yuuri visibly stiffened in his arms, and he swallowed thickly. “What about them?” He asked, shifting a little on Viktor’s lap.

“I’ve cancelled them all,” Viktor said, and Yuuri’s eyes widened at once. “Phichit told me how painful they were for you. Why didn’t you say anything to me, my jewel?”

Yuuri averted his gaze in both embarrassment and shame. “You insisted on these appointments,” he murmured.

“I wouldn’t have if I had known that they upset you so,” Viktor said and cupped Yuuri’s cheeks. “My jewel, I would never, ever force you to do anything you don’t like, especially if it causes you pain.”

“B-but these examinations,” Yuuri began, “they… they might lead to an answer as to…” He couldn’t bring it over his lips, no matter how hard he tried, and Viktor was sure he had never seen his mate so miserable. Yuuri’s lower lip was trembling, his fingers were digging into the fabric of Viktor’s shirt nervously, and his beautiful, intelligent eyes that Viktor often lost himself in were so full of worry that it broke Viktor’s heart then and there.

“My love.” Viktor took Yuuri’s hands into his own and laced their fingers together. “I’ve said it once and I will say it again. I will love you, cherish you, and honour you, regardless if and how many children we have. I have not married you to fulfil the destiny that many omegas suffer. You are my mate. The other half of my soul. And I want nothing more than to see you happy. Please don’t think that you have to have a baby for my sake.”

Yuuri stared at him in utter bewilderment, seeming so much younger now than he actually was. Like this, he reminded Viktor very much of the teenage boy he had seen in Shanghai four years ago, sad, with a grief-stricken heart. Back then, he had not been able to take the pain away. But now, he was Yuuri’s husband, his alpha, and the urge to protect him from the world had never been stronger.

“I’m the most stupid, am I not?” Yuuri said weakly.

“I don’t want to hear such a thing ever again,” Viktor said firmly. “Do you hear me?”

Yuuri shivered, nodding softly to show that he understood. Viktor hated talking to his mate like this. But sometimes, as he had realised very early in their marriage, ordering Yuuri not to talk of himself badly was the only way to stop the spiral of anxiety that had him in its grasp so very often.

“I know that you want a baby, my love,” Viktor said, his voice soft again as he touched Yuuri’s belly. “But I don’t want this to consume your entire being. We are both young and healthy. I’m sure that all we need is patience. That, and perhaps shifting our focus onto other things.”

“Other things?”

“Other things,” Viktor confirmed and grasped his chin ever so gently. “Such as worshipping my mate the way he deserves.” He kissed him tenderly. “To fulfil your every wish.” Another kiss. “Taking you to Paris.” Another kiss. “Or Hokkaido, as you always wanted.” Another kiss. “Making love to you under the stars.” And then, Yuuri did not let him go again. He wound his arms around Viktor’s neck and held him close, kissing him with such passion and hunger that Viktor had barely time to react. Yuuri tugged on his clothing, demanding that they be taken off this second, a wish that Viktor fulfilled happily. With his clothes abandoned and entirely forgotten on the floor beside them, he pulled the bathing suit off Yuuri’s body, tossing it aside as he kissed down his mate’s chest and stomach, burying his face between his legs.

Yuuri’s moans filled the greenhouse as Viktor drank from him, the omega’s hands buried deep in his hair, holding him in place. For many alphas, such a thing would be considered an act of shame, an act of submission before the omega, even. But Viktor had never cared much about that. He would kiss the ground beneath Yuuri’s feet happily if it only made his beloved smile, would allow Yuuri to crush him, beat him, if it only made him happy. To hear his jewel moan like this was reward enough.

After a while, Viktor stopped, kissing his way up to Yuuri’s face again, capturing his lips with his own to give Yuuri a taste of himself. “I love you, Yuuri,” he breathed between kisses. “My jewel. My most precious jewel.”

“Vik…toru…” Yuuri whimpered. “Make me yours.”

Never had Viktor been happier to oblige.

A gasp escaped Yuuri as he entered him, his mate’s nails digging into his back as he held onto him for dear life, as if Viktor were the only thing to keep him from drowning.

“Are you alright?” Viktor whispered into his ear as he stilled his movements, allowing his mate to adjust. He did not want for him to be in pain, not after all this.

Yuuri was shivering in his arms, bearing his neck submissively to his husband. “I am,” he breathed after a moment, his eyes closed as he allowed himself to adjust to the feeling once more. “God, I…” He slowly brought his leg around Viktor’s waist, whimpering as Viktor moved deeper. “I… can feel you… so deep.”

Viktor’s chest swelled in pride at those words, and he bent down to capture his mate’s lips in a long, tender kiss. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he whispered.

“Y-Yes,” Yuuri breathed. “I… ah!”

In a single, swift movement, Viktor had flipped them over, rolling onto his back and heaving Yuuri on top of him. Yuuri gasped in shock and surprise, falling forward onto Viktor’s chest. “What… what are you doing?!”

Viktor sat up and pulled Yuuri up with him, wrapping his arms around the omega’s waist to support him. “Giving you control,” he said, pressing Yuuri down on his lap. The omega mewled and threw his head back, and would have fallen backwards if it had not been for Viktor holding him close. “You are mine, my jewel. But I am also yours. Never forget that.”

He moved his left hand to the small of Yuuri’s back, holding him carefully as he encouraged him to move, showing Yuuri how to roll his hips. At first, Yuuri whimpered with each thrust, his arms limp around Viktor’s neck. “Let go,” Viktor whispered into his ear and held him close. “Enjoy me. Have me. Love me.”

It took Yuuri a while to understand what Viktor meant, but the alpha never let go, encouraging Yuuri to move on his own, to take from him what he wanted and so desperately needed. But then, a gentle moan escaped Yuuri’s throat, and then another, wrapping his arms tightly around Viktor’s neck as he moved on his lap, rolling his hips in his own rhythm, pressing their bodies together, so impossibly close that Viktor was sure they had become one being. He kissed him long and hard, sucking on Yuuri’s neck, leaving his mark on his omega that would declare to the world that he was taken, that there was no one else that had the right to claim him but him.

“Vi…Viktor…” Yuuri cried as he came, squeezing his eyes shut and going limp in his husband’s arms, taking Viktor with him over the edge.

“Yuuri…” Viktor groaned as he spent himself inside him, the pressure of the previous days and weeks falling off him at once as he fell back against the chaise longue, pulling Yuuri down with him.

Neither of them spoke for a long time as they lay there, their bodies connected, basking in the afterglow of their mating. Only then, Viktor realised how badly he had needed this release, the company of his mate, the fire of Yuuri’s touch on his skin. Before him, he had had lovers, of course. But none of them had ever made him feel like this. As if he could conquer the world.

After a while, Yuuri shifted on top of him, resting his head on Viktor’s chest and hooking a leg around his waist as he settled beside him on the cushioned chair. Viktor sighed contentedly, wrapping an arm around his mate. He could feel his seed trickling down Yuuri’s thigh and onto his own. In any other situation, he would have reached down and pushed it back inside him, not wasting any of it in the hopes of getting Yuuri pregnant.

But neither of them could have cared less at the moment.

 _Let it go to waste for once_ , Viktor thought.

“The charity gala is in a few days,” Yuuri murmured after a while. “And I feel like I’ve got absolutely nothing to wear.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “I thought the seamstress had made you a new dress?”

“I’m not talking about clothes.”

“I see. What is it that your heart so desires, my jewel?”

Yuuri raised his head just enough to look at Viktor.

“I want new earrings,” he said with a pout. “Ruby earrings. And a matching necklace.”

Viktor chuckled. “Of course. You shall have it.”

“And a matching bracelet, too.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“And a matching hair pin.”

“I shall deliver them to you personally.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking suggestions for this fic!  
> If there is anything you'd like to see, a headcanon you have for this universe - let me know!


	6. Honigmond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another chapter!  
> I was not in the mood to write that much recently. Depression is a bitch, and it decided to punch me in the face again. Sometimes it's hard to write about a happy couple etc. when you're 25 and still forever single. I feel kind of stuck with my current life, but at least writing gives me "something". 
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter, we're back at "pre-Phichit", aka: HONEYMOON!
> 
> Honigmond = German, lit. "honey moon", "moon made of honey". The German word for "honeymoon", aka the holiday after the wedding, would be "Flitterwochen". 
> 
> Enjoy!

To be grateful for something as simple as feeling sand beneath his feet – Yuuri had never thought that his life would take such turns.

And yet, here he stood – or rather, sat. The sand was warm beneath him as he buried his toes in it while watching the sun set on the horizon. There was no sound but the lapping of the water, and the ever-consistent crashing of the waves at the shore. He was alone, alone on the beach of Baía do Sancho – how Viktor had managed that, he did not even dare to ask.

For a little more than a month, they had been travelling already, from one destination to the next. They had spent a few days in Cape Town before continuing with Nairobi, Cairo, and Madrid, celebrating Viktor’s 27th birthday there. Then, they had left Africa and Europe, heading to South America to warm up there. Madrid had been terribly cold, the weather typical for January, and they had both longed for the sun once more.

The Brazilian island they were now on could not be described as anything else but paradise on earth, with crystal clear water, a white beach, and gorgeous flora. The bay itself was usually crowded with tourists during the day, but somehow, Viktor had managed to get the bay all for themselves, their yacht lying at anchor in the shallow water.

It should no longer surprise Yuuri that money could indeed buy everything. And yet, it did.

That Viktor spent all this money just for him.

Yuuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the warm, salty air of their little paradise. It was like breathing in the taste of freedom itself, Yuuri thought, the taste of a world he had thought he would never get to see. But Viktor had decided to show him all of it, just so, because he could. They barely knew each other, but Viktor was fulfilling his every wish already – wishes that Yuuri did not even say out loud. How Viktor was doing it, he did not know.

But his husband was full of surprises anyway.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri raised his head, bringing his hand up to his face to shield his eyes from the light of the setting sun. There, on the deck of their yacht, stood his husband, leaning against the railing and waving at him.

Understanding, Yuuri rose from the sand and waded back into the water, swimming the last few metres to the ladder and climbing up. Viktor’s hands grasped his arms as he reached the top, pulling him over the railing and into his arms, not caring at all that Yuuri’s white tunic was soaked, clinging to him like a second skin.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were planning to sleep on the beach,” Viktor said, pulling Yuuri even closer for a tender kiss.

“Viktor, you are getting wet,” Yuuri protested softly, but his husband only laughed.

“What is water to me?” Viktor asked with a smile, looking Yuuri up and down. “But I suggest you take the tunic off. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“We are in a subtropical climate,” Yuuri replied.

“And I don’t want you to get a UTI either,” Viktor reminded him gently and pecked his lips once more. “Do get changed, yes? Dinner is ready.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said and pulled the tunic over his head in a single, swift movement, dropping the garment to the ground as he walked away from his husband with swaying hips.

Behind him, he could hear Viktor choke.

It was a game that had developed between them on their honeymoon, a game of temptation and seduction that Yuuri had mastered very quickly. It was incredibly easy to tempt his husband and lure him into the sheets, just as easy as it was to resist Viktor’s advances. For Viktor kept his promise, and never had Yuuri when the omega did not want him to.

And so, it was a rather simple thing for Yuuri to descend into the cabin entirely nude, feeling the eyes of his husband on his bare back, and not feeling ashamed of it at all.

Just because he could.

Naturally, this confidence had not come easy. At first, Yuuri had been shy to show himself to Viktor entirely, and felt most comfortable when the lights were out, or when they were hidden under the sheets. But now, a little more than a month later, he had gotten used to Viktor’s touch, and to his hungry gaze. And he had realised how much power it gave him to be the one that Viktor desired so – to be the only one that Viktor paid such attention to.

No, Yuuri truly could not complain about a lack of affection and attention from his husband. Viktor had kept his promise and treated him with greatest respect in every regard, never touching him when Yuuri did not want him to, and fulfilling his every wish. They spent their days together like an ordinary couple that had just started dating, learning more about each other with every day that passed. They held hands and exchanged chaste kisses on their days out exploring the places they visited, and slept with each other at night. Sometimes, it was indeed just that, simply sleeping next to each other with their arms holding the other one close. Their bond always brought them together, even if they went to bed separately. In the mornings, they would always wake in each other’s arms, and Yuuri wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He liked Viktor.

He liked him a lot.

And that alone was a frightening enough.

Yuuri sighed, opening the wardrobe in the bedroom they shared to pick out another tunic. Viktor had bought him a few in Cape Town after declaring that Yuuri’s travel wardrobe was far from sufficient. A shopping spree had followed, with an embarrassed Yuuri trying on all the clothes his husband had picked for him. The tunics had only been the tip of the iceberg. Shirts, jeans, trousers, jackets, shoes, scarves, shawls, gloves – Viktor had bought almost everything he could get his hands on.

The lingerie, however, had come from Viktor’s very own company, Eros&Agape. The finest silk and lace, tailored exclusively for Yuuri, hugging his curves in the right places. When Yuuri had discovered the lingerie the first time, he had barely been able to take his hands away from the soft fabric, staring at it in awe.

The first time he had put them on, Viktor had torn the underwear into shreds in his passion.

Since then, Yuuri had become a little more careful about the pieces he wore, keeping his favourite ones in the drawer.

For the tunics, he chose to forego underwear entirely, picking a soft, blue one from the wardrobe. The collar of it was ornamented with pearls, and Yuuri was sure that they were real ones. Viktor’s wealth was immense, and he only ever got the best of the best, especially for his mate.

Yuuri himself did not care for jewels or riches, and was entirely happy without them. But that did not mean that he did not like them. He knew to appreciate the finest quality of a tailored suit, or the softness of Egyptian cotton sheets on his bed.

That, and the sapphire ring he still liked to wear, the very first gift that Viktor had ever given him.

With a sigh, Yuuri closed the wardrobe again and checked his appearance one more time in the large mirror beside it before walking up the stairs again, joining his husband on the deck. A table had been set at the sitting area by the bow of the yacht, where Yuuri liked to bathe in the light of the sun in the mornings. Now, the pillows had been removed to make space for them to sit on. Viktor had turned the lanterns on, and Yuuri could hear him hum a soft, pleasant tune in the small kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” Yuuri called.

“No, no, sit down, darling,” Viktor called back, and Yuuri did as he was told, moving to sit down at the table that Viktor had set so beautifully. Petals of the most beautiful flowers adorned the arrangement, their colours a stark, gorgeous contrast to the white porcelain plates and the currently empty wine glasses.

A moment later, Viktor emerged from the kitchen, in his hands a large plate with various kinds of seafood and a bowl of salad. How on earth he had managed to create such a meal in their small kitchen Yuuri could only guess – but he knew by now that Viktor was an excellent cook and enjoyed cooking for others.

“You look stunning, my jewel,” Viktor said and pressed a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s lips once he had put down the food and taken a seat beside his mate. “Blue looks wonderful on you.”

“It is my favourite colour, actually,” Yuuri admitted with a blush, something he could barely stop from happening whenever Viktor paid him a compliment.

“Is it?” Viktor seemed absolutely delighted at that. “Another thing I know about you now. What a coincidence that my first gift to you was a sapphire ring, then! Ah, let me guess!” He sighed dramatically. “You only married me because the sapphire was blue.”

“Viktor.”

“If it had been a ruby ring, I would have missed my chance! Only to think of it!”

“I’m going to throw the ring into the sea if you don’t stop.”

“Yuuuuri! Not my ring!”

Yuuri only huffed and leant forward to inspect the plate of seafood. “It’s so much. I don’t even know what to choose.” He looked at Viktor through his eyelashes.

“I’ll make a plate for you,” Viktor said immediately and got to work, pouring each of them a glass of wine first before picking the best bits and pieces from the plates. Yuuri sipped his wine, watching Viktor create a beautiful arrangement on his plate.

“I hope you like the shrimps,” he said when he was done, taking one with Yuuri’s fork. Yuuri leant forward and opened his mouth, allowing his husband to feed him. He could not help but moan at the taste, much to Viktor’s delight, for shrimps, as he had told Yuuri before, were his personal speciality.

“You are such a great cook,” Yuuri sighed in admiration.

Viktor beamed with pride. “Thank you. I rarely get the chance to cook for others, but I’ll cook for you as much as you want.”

Yuuri smiled at that. “As long as you don’t forget your work over it,” he said. “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“My father insisted on it,” Viktor said. “He said that I could never know if I ever had to live somewhere else under a different name for protection, so…” His smile faltered a little. “I learnt to care for myself. Including cooking. I always used to dream that I could make a living as a chef somewhere, should the Bratva collapse or should my father to choose someone else as his successor…”

Yuuri watched his husband carefully, not missing the wistful look in his bright blue eyes.

“Who else could have taken his place?” Yuuri asked softly.

“I have a cousin, Georgi,” Viktor replied, looking back up at his mate. “The illegitimate son of my uncle, Yakov. The rather angry-looking man that sat next to your uncle Daikichi at our wedding feast.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“My father was not too happy with me for some time when I was a teenager,” Viktor said. “He used to say that if I didn’t ‘man up’, he’d give the title of Pakhan to Georgi. Looking back at it now, I doubt that he would have ever done so. It would have caused a lot of unrest within the family.”

The mere thought of someone telling Viktor to ‘man up’ was entirely ridiculous to Yuuri. There was no one that was more powerful, more dangerous, than Viktor Nikiforov in the Western world, and not just in the world of crime. No, Viktor was friends with both presidents and princes, had enchanted men and women of all sorts throughout all ranks, just to get what he wanted.

“Your father thought you were unfit for the position?” Yuuri couldn’t help but ask.

Viktor laughed. “Yes. He said I was, and I quote, ‘too goddamn sensitive’. He didn’t know about the drug cartel that I was running behind his back until I told him about it on his 50th birthday.”

“How old were you then?”

“About your age now, I believe.”

“Wow,” was all that Yuuri could say.

“Yeah,” Viktor sighed heavily, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a small sip. “But he was impressed, and never spoke of replacing me with Georgi ever again. Not that I don’t like my cousin, for he is quite pleasant company, but god, he is quite the drama queen.”

“Worse than you?” Yuuri asked and raised an eyebrow.

Viktor gasped. “Yuuuuri! You wound me.”

“Quod erat demonstrandum,” Yuuri said dryly.

Viktor shook his head. “I have married quite the master of words,” he said with a dramatic sigh before leaning over and kissing Yuuri on the lips. “Such a witty mate that I have.”

“Not witty,” Yuuri murmured into the kiss, allowing himself to indulge a little while before pulling back again, for he was still hungry and the food would not eat itself.

They ate in silence for a while, Viktor feeding Yuuri the best bits and pieces of the meal in between small kisses that eventually lured Yuuri into his husband’s lap. It was lovely to sit like this, Yuuri found, with Viktor’s heartbeat right next to his own, and his scent enchanting his senses, making him feel safe.

“So…” Yuuri hummed, licking his lips clean. “You have a cousin named Georgi?”

“Yes,” Viktor confirmed. “He is a little younger than me. And he was the reason that my uncle and his wife got a divorce. I’m still very fond of Lilia, though. She used to be a prima ballerina.”

“Lilia Baranovskaya is your aunt?!” Yuuri exclaimed with wide eyes. “She is the best ballerina of her generation!”

Viktor blinked in surprise. “You know Lilia?”

“Viktor, I love ballet,” he told him and could barely contain his excitement. “It was the only thing I was allowed to pursue.”

Viktor’s face lit up. “Then you have to meet her!” He said. “She couldn’t come to the wedding, but I’ll phone her as soon as I can and arrange a meeting for you!”

“Y-You would do that?” Yuuri asked in awe, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of meeting THE Lilia Baranovskaya.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said in earnest, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I would burn down the world if you wanted me to.”

Yuuri blushed deeply at such a promise, and he knew better than to question Viktor in that regard. “You are… very kind.”

Viktor kissed his knuckles again. “Anything for my mate,” he said and pulled Yuuri a little closer. “But yes, Lilia is my aunt. And then, there is my half-brother, Yuri. Ah, what a coincidence! I suppose I will have to find a nickname for him.”

Yuuri stared at him. “You have a half-brother?”

Viktor frowned. “You didn’t know?” He asked. “Ah, I suppose that my uncle keeps quiet about him for his safety. You know that my mother died shortly after I was born, I suppose. My father had a few affairs, and a few official mistresses after that. One of them, Irina Plisetsky, gave birth to a boy when I was twelve. She lived in an apartment in St. Petersburg with him that my father paid for. Sadly, she died a few years later when Yura was four, and he grew up with his grandfather Nikolai after that.” He paused for a moment, as if lost in thought. “When my father died and I became the Pakhan, Nikolai came to me and asked me to not take the boy away from him.” He huffed. “As if I had ever considered that. No, Yura had a happy childhood with his grandfather, and I merely kept an eye on him and paid for his education. He’s fifteen now, and puberty has hit him hard.”

Viktor pulled out his phone and opened the photo album, tapping on the picture of a blonde, grumpy teenager dressed in black and tiger print. “That’s him. I’ll introduce him to you when we’re home.”

Yuuri was sure that he had never seen a teenager more unhappy with having his picture taken than Viktor’s brother. But he had to admit that they looked alike, a little bit – although he thought that Viktor was a lot prettier.

“He thinks he’s a tiger, but actually, he’s a kitten,” Viktor said with a laugh and put his phone away again. “He appears angry and rude but deep down, he has a good heart. I’m sure you will get along.”

“I hope so,” Yuuri said softly. “I want to get along with your whole family. Even… Even with Yakov. Although I have to admit that he scares me a little.”

Viktor began to laugh heartily at that. “Oh, he is always so grumpy. But he would never dare to disrespect you, my jewel.” He took Yuuri’s fork, picked up some more seafood and fed it to his mate. “No one will ever dare to treat you with anything but respect from now on. I won’t allow it. Not like they treated you at home.”

Yuuri swallowed the food, licking his lips. “It’s not like I’ve been treated badly at home,” he said. “It was… sheltered.”

“But you haven’t been very free, have you?” Viktor asked in return, gently stroking the back of Yuuri’s hand. “There is a difference between sheltered and trapped, my jewel. I’ll protect you, but I’ll never lock you away. And I won’t let anyone treat you as anything less but my mate and queen of the Bratva. Especially not my relatives.”

Yuuri stared at him. “Queen… of the Bratva?” He repeated weakly. “Is that how you… how you see me, Viktor?”

“Why, of course,” Viktor said, putting the fork down and reaching for Yuuri’s hands. “You could never be anything less to me. I married you because I think you are wonderful. And with every day that passes, with every day that I get to know you better, I realise that I have made the right decision. You belong at my side. Not as an ornament, but as my partner. The other half of my heart. My queen.”

Yuuri stared at his husband with wide eyes, his heart beating rapidly in his chest at these words. In the beginning, he had thought that Viktor’s promise to love and cherish him consisted of empty words only, that he did not really mean it, and that he would sooner or later show the side that every alpha that he knew had – that he would treat Yuuri like a child based on his omega status, and dismiss him at every given opportunity.

But Viktor had done no such thing. Instead, he showered him with gifts and affection, fulfilled his every wish, did everything he could just to make him smile. And he stressed over and over again that he wanted Yuuri at his side, that he did not think little of him, and that he adored him so very much.

“It is very flattering that you think of me in this way, Viktor,” Yuuri said quietly and lowered his gaze. “But all of this scares me so.”

Immediately, Viktor was alarmed. “What scares you so, my jewel?” He asked worriedly, cupping Yuuri’s cheek. “What of it?”

“All of it,” Yuuri said weakly and felt the tears form in his eyes again, alongside the terrible, gut-wrenching anxiety in his stomach that slowly crept through his whole body. “I’m… I’m not good around strangers. I can barely talk to them, let alone look them in the eye. How am I supposed to be the partner you deserve when I cannot even do that?”

“Yuuri!” Viktor took his face into his hands just before the tears could begin to flow. “My jewel, please don’t worry about that. You will simply support me in your own way. You don’t have to be this… this perfect pretty omega that just smiles and never thinks for himself. I want you to be _you_.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “But what if you ever realise that this isn’t enough?” He whispered.

“Then you immediately go and get the divorce you deserve,” Viktor said without missing a beat. “My Yuuri, I adore you so, so much. Can’t you try to look in the mirror and see what I see? The gorgeous, gentle, kind, and affectionate Yuuri that I like so very much?”

Yuuri felt the heat rise into his cheeks, and Viktor’s lips on his own barely a moment later, so gentle and tender that it made his heart ache.

He liked Viktor.

He liked him so much that it hurt.

* * *

They left the bay the following morning after breakfast, Viktor steering the yacht out into the open sea. Yuuri found that he looked gorgeous standing at the ship’s wheel, dressed in shorts and a white polo shirt, his silver hair shining bright in the morning sun. It was not the first time that Yuuri saw him like this, but he found that he never grew tired of this sight. It was easy to forget this way that Viktor was not an ordinary man but the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, and the most dangerous man in the Western hemisphere. Out here, on the endless ocean, he was just Viktor.

And Yuuri’s heart was in turmoil.

Viktor turned his head as he felt Yuuri’s eyes on him, smiling at his mate, a smile so gorgeous that bothered him in a way that made Yuuri want to throw something. It was ridiculous how a single person could be so gorgeous, so perfect in every way, and so deadly at the same time.

But there he was, standing before him in the blazing morning sun like a Greek god, smiling at him. And he was all Yuuri’s.

Yuuri returned his husband’s smile, stretching out on the chaise longue and closing his eyes. He had slept well the previous night, having fallen asleep in the arms of his husband after a passionate mating right under the stars. Even now, he could feel Viktor’s fervour, and the heat of his kisses on his skin. Viktor, who gave Yuuri everything, who always made sure that he was satisfied, who never left his side unless his mate was trembling and crying out in sheer ecstasy. Viktor, who held him, kissed him, and adored him, just for being Yuuri.

But Yuuri had never felt so incredibly lost before.

He had grown up in a world so very different from the one he lived in now. His life had not only been sheltered, it had been incredibly restricted; shaped by the ways of the Yakuza and the traditions of his culture. Only his mother and his sister had remained at his side at all times, protecting him as best as they could, preparing him for the life they thought he would have one day. And then, everything had changed, within a single moment on that fateful night in Shanghai. Nothing, no advice, no lesson could have prepared him for this life. From now on, Yuuri would have to learn as he went. At his side, the ever patient, ever understanding Viktor.

Yuuri rolled over on the chaise longue to lie on his back, listening to the gentle crashing of the waves and the songs of the seagulls above. In a way, one could pretend to be back in Hasetsu again, were it not for the humming sounds of the yacht. He dozed off like this, the sun warming his back as he slept, not noticing that the parasol was opened above him after a while.

He woke again some time around noon, the yacht now lying at anchor by the mainland, yet still far away from civilisation. Viktor rested on the chaise longue beside him, having fallen asleep whilst reading, the book now resting forgotten on his bare chest.

Not for the first time did Yuuri find that Viktor seemed younger when he was asleep, with all the faint lines on his face gone. Perhaps this was the face a Viktor outside the Bratva would have, in a world without crime, without having to be the Pakhan.

It took Yuuri all of his strength not to kneel by Viktor’s chaise longue and kiss him awake.

Instead, he made his way down the stairs to the cabin and into the small bathroom, pulling down his bathing suit.

There, on the white fabric, were a few drops of blood.

An ice-cold shiver ran down Yuuri’s spine at the sight of it, and he barely managed to sit down on the toilet seat before the tears started coming, and the realisation hit Yuuri with full force.

“No, please, no…” He grabbed some toilet paper and frantically tried to rub away the stains, but if anything, it made it only worse. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. He had not bled for six weeks, he had been so sure that this was a good sign, that everything the doctors had promised was about to come true. All of was gone, his hopes destroyed within seconds.

Yuuri cried out in frustration and fear, throwing the paper into the toilet and burying his face in his hands. This would surely be the end of the blissful days with his husband, once he learnt of Yuuri’s failure. That he could not even do what was most natural for an omega. How would Viktor possibly punish him? Would he merely slap him, like he had seen his uncle’s men do with their mates, or would he demand an annulment of their marriage?

In the end, it did not matter, for no punishment would change the fact that he had failed at the one thing he was supposed to do.

“Yuuri?”

At the sound of his name, Yuuri almost jumped, pressing his hands to his mouth. He could hear Viktor enter the cabin, and Yuuri realised in horror that he had forgotten to lock the bathroom door.

“Yuuri, my sweet, are you alright?” Viktor asked, his voice now closer to the bathroom door, followed by a gentle knock.

Yuuri took a deep breath, pulling himself together. “Ah, I’m… I’m fine!” he answered, trying to sound braver than he felt. He got up from the toilet seat, opening the cupboard above the sink to search for his toiletry bag, but had to realise in horror that it was not there. “Please, no…” He breathed, opening the rest of the cupboards, but the bag was not there.

“Yuuri, I’m worried,” Viktor said, sounding alarmed this time. “I’m coming in now.”

“No!” Yuuri cried, throwing the doors of the cupboards shut. “I… I’m just looking for my toiletry bag, it’s… can you…” Yuuri sniffed, forcing himself to pull himself together at least a little bit. “Can you give me the… the bag from my side of the bed?”

Viktor was silent for an awfully long moment, and Yuuri did not even dare to take a breath.

Eventually, he heard Viktor walk around in the cabin, his footsteps trailing away, followed by the sound of a drawer being opened and closed again. And then, Viktor was back at the bathroom door, his voice so patient and gentle that there was no doubt that he knew what Yuuri needed the bag for.

“I have it here,” he said softly. “Can I come in so I can give it to you?”

Yuuri swallowed thickly and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, wrapping the white bathrobe around his shoulders to hide at least some of the disgrace.

“I’m coming in now, okay?” Viktor said, and Yuuri pulled the bathrobe tighter around himself, looking anywhere but at the door as his husband came in. His heart was beating fast in his chest as Viktor approached him, placing the bag by the sink before sitting down beside Yuuri to put his arm around him.

“It will be alright, _miliy_ ,” he heard him say, and then felt a gentle kiss on his temple. “The maids were not sure what products you prefer, so they packed all sorts.” And with that, Viktor rose again, running a hand through Yuuri’s hair ever so tenderly. “I’ll be upstairs, okay?”

The only thing that Yuuri was able to give him was a nod, and even that was barely visible.

But it seemed to be enough.

“Take your time,” Viktor said softly and left again, carefully closing the bathroom door behind himself.

Yuuri took a few deep breaths before he even looked at the bag by the sink.

The maids had indeed packed all sorts of products, every single one of them reminding him of the disgrace. He sorted himself out, taking off his bathing suit and tossing it into the bin. He never wanted to see it ever again.

He washed his face and hands, then gripped the sink and took a few more breaths. Hiding in the bathroom forever was not a possibility, and if he stayed in it for too long, Viktor would come and look for him again. Yuuri had to face him.

And face the consequences, too.

He left the bathroom and went to the wardrobe, putting on a pair of cotton underwear and a tunic that would not be too restricting around the middle. If this period was anything like the ones he had had before, then the cramps would start soon, and they would not be nice.

His body’s very own punishment, Yuuri thought bitterly as he shut the drawers.

Viktor sat on the large chaise longue by the yacht’s bow as Yuuri came on deck, resting his head on his folded arms on top of the railing and watching the sea. The expression on his face was a calm one, as if nothing could ever upset him. It did little to ease Yuuri’s anxiety.

Slowly, he approached his husband, only then gaining his attention. Viktor held out his arm once he was within reach, wrapping it around Yuuri’s waist.

“How are you?” He asked, his voice ever so gentle, and his eyes so full of understanding that it made Yuuri want to cry. He did not deserve this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking down at his feet.

Viktor stared at him. “But whatever for?” He asked, sounding a little puzzled, and sat up properly to look at him, placing his hands on Yuuri’s hips. “For having your period?”

The mere fact Viktor was saying it out loud sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine. In Japan, alphas ignored this fact about omegas most of the time, preferring to pretend something as ‘shameful’ as that did not exist. Viktor, however, did not seem to care at all.

Yuuri did not reply, for he simply did not know what to say.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said softly, caressing his sides gently. “How could I be angry with you for something entirely natural? Did you think I was not expecting it?”

Yuuri sniffed, looking anywhere but at his husband. Was Viktor not aware of the promises that had been made to him before their wedding anymore? That he would receive an omega that was most fertile, and would give him children right away?

“My most precious jewel,” Viktor said, pressing a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s stomach, the mere gesture making Yuuri’s knees feel like jelly. “I don’t want you to be ashamed. This is an entirely natural process that you are going through. Please don’t think you have to hide it from me.”

“B-But…” Yuuri swallowed thickly. “You… you are not… not angry that I’m…”

“Of course not!” Viktor exclaimed and rose to his feet, taking both of Yuuri’s hands into his own. “Yuuri, why would I be angry that you are not pregnant? I didn’t marry you to make a baby machine of you. To me, it is the most important that you are happy. Not that you bear me child after child just because some people think that is an omega’s only purpose. I have married _you_. Not your body.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s knuckles first, and then to his forehead, before pulling his mate into his arms. And Yuuri let him, too weak to fight, and unwilling, too. Viktor’s embrace was warm and comforting, and his scent incredibly calming.

They stood like this for a while, holding each other, listening to the sounds of the sea. Eventually, Viktor pulled away, gently touching his mate’s belly. “Are you in pain, miliy?”

Yuuri was about to shake his head when he felt the familiar cramps, mild ones only, but he knew they could soon become stronger and make him entirely useless for the rest of the day.

“A little,” he murmured.

“I’ve got all sorts of medicine in the bathroom cabinet,” Viktor said. “How about you take some painkillers and we lie down and watch a film together. How does that sound?”

In the end, Yuuri did not even have to walk down to the cabin himself. Viktor carried him below deck and put him down on the large bed, turning on the television and asking Yuuri to choose a film whilst he went to get the painkillers. Yuuri hardly paid attention to what he was selecting, choosing a Hollywood classic in the end. Viktor returned a moment later with painkillers and a glass of water, handing both to Yuuri and settling beside him on the bed, pulling the omega against his chest once he had taken the medicine.

Neither of them spoke much during the film, except for Viktor pointing out some things every now and then, such as the fact that he had met the main actress personally, and that she had an awful character. Only when the film’s setting changed, Viktor nudged Yuuri gently to get his attention.

“How about we go to San Francisco next,” he suggested. “We can see some of the US and then continue with Europe. What do you think?”

Yuuri thought of the duration of their trip so far. They had been gone for more than a month now, and if Viktor wanted to keep travelling, they would not be back in Russia before mid-February, or even later.

“What about your work?” He asked.

Viktor shrugged. “Some of it I can do while we travel,” he said. “Although I must admit that I’d like to get some business done in New York City in three weeks, if you don’t mind. There’ll be a ball of some sort, hosted by the de la Iglesia family. I would like to attend with you.”

Yuuri raised his head, opening his mouth, but Viktor was faster.

“I know you are terrified of not being able to socialise,” he told him calmly. “But I don’t want you to worry too much about it. The ball will be quite informal, and absolutely nothing is required of you. Just stay at my side and make me feel like I can conquer the world.”

That did very little to soothe Yuuri’s anxiety.

How was he supposed to support Viktor like that if he couldn’t even look strangers in the eye?

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Viktor assured him. “You can stay home if you like. But I’d like it very much if you came with me. You don’t have to decide now. Okay?”

Yuuri nodded, and slowly settled against his husband’s chest again, the thoughts racing in his head. He had heard of the de la Iglesia family, of course, but his family had never been their partners, for his uncle had a distaste for Americans. Viktor, however, had close relations with them, and was probably expected to attend if he did not want to lose them as business partners. And although Yuuri had been kept away from the business of the family most of the time, even he knew that it was bon ton for an alpha to attend with an omega at their side.

Perhaps he had to swallow his anxiety for his husband’s sake.

* * *

Yuuri’s period lasted for four days, and Viktor had never felt more helpless.

It was one thing to provide all the things an omega needed during this time, such as sanitary products, medication, and perhaps a hot water bottle. Having to watch his mate curl up into a ball and hug his stomach in pain was something entirely different, and nothing could have prepared Viktor for it. He tried his best, taking care of Yuuri day and night, cooking the lightest meals for him when he was hungry and rubbing his back and belly when he was sleeping, hoping to ease the discomfort. He even called Lilia, the only other omega he was close to, and asked her for advice. But she told him that there was nothing else he could do than to support his mate.

Finally, four days after he had found Yuuri upset in the bathroom, the bleeding stopped, and his mate emerged from the shower as a new human being, smiling and happy.

Viktor had ravished him then and there, making his Yuuri see the stars in his arms.

It was their final day on the yacht, and although Viktor had enjoyed every single day out on the ocean with his mate, he was glad they would soon be back on the mainland. From there, they would fly to San Francisco and spend a few days there, and then fly to New York City for some more sightseeing and the ball.

But before that, he still had a surprise for Yuuri.

The island they had gone to belonged to one of Viktor’s friends from university that still owed him a favour. It was a lush, green paradise with a white beach and an overall gorgeous scenery. The island’s secret, however, lay not on the beach, but hidden away between palm trees: A waterfall, created by Mother Nature herself, which run into a lake and eventually into the ocean. Rock formations and the most beautiful flora adorned the scene, and Viktor was sure that the Garden of Eden could not have been more beautiful.

Only that the Garden of Eden had not had Yuuri in it.

No, that was his pleasure alone.

Viktor sighed, leaning back in the water of the small lake, listening to the sounds of the waterfall. How wonderful it would be to stay at such a place forever, he thought, with only his mate at his side. To live with him, far away from civilisation, to raise children together, and live off the things the earth gave them. It was quite the romantic dream, but entirely impossible. They had duties to other people, lives they had to return to. It was not that their lives were terrible ones, no. They had everything they wanted, lived in luxury, and were incredibly privileged.

The soft sound of laughter made Viktor open his eyes, and he turned his head.

Yuuri stood on one of the rocks by the waterfall, laughing as he let the water run through his fingers. He wore a dark blue bathing suit of Eros&Agape, Viktor’s very own design, and it looked so incredibly good on him that Viktor would have fallen to his knees had he been standing. The pearls sewn to its seams glistened in the light of the sun, making Yuuri appear even more like an angel. But what made him the most beautiful was his smile, a smile that could have captivated thousands if they only had been watching. However, it was only Viktor who was looking at him, who got to see him like this, and who truly got to call him ‘mine’.

Never had Viktor adored another person so.

Never had he loved someone else the way he loved Yuuri.

Deeply, fiercely, and with everything he had.

Viktor pushed himself off the rock he had been leaning against, swimming through the shallow waters towards the waterfall and under the rock Yuuri was standing on.

“Be careful, so you won’t slip!” He called, holding out his hands

Yuuri looked down at him, slowly sitting down on the rock and moving closer to the edge. Viktor grasped him by the hips and pulled him off the rock into the water, and into his arms.

“There you are,” Viktor murmured, kissing him tenderly as he held him. “You looked stunning up there, my jewel. I truly wish I had a painter with me.”

“You have a phone with a camera,” Yuuri laughed. “Why not simply take a picture?”

“Because only an artist would be able to capture the spirit of the moment,” Viktor said softly. “A camera is nothing but a machine. It cannot capture emotions. An artist can.”

Yuuri smiled. “You are awfully poetic.”

“How could I not be, with such perfection right before me?” Viktor kissed him again, a little longer this time, and Yuuri wound his arms around his neck to respond accordingly, parting his lips as Viktor’s tongue demanded entrance. There were many ways in which Viktor enjoyed his mate, but kissing Yuuri, to simply hold him and shower him with love, had to be his favourite. He held him close, smiling into the kiss as Yuuri moaned into his mouth, and Viktor ran his hand down his back between his legs, pushing aside the fabric that hid him so well, and began to tease him.

In an instant, Yuuri hooked a leg around Viktor’s waist, whimpering into his mouth but never breaking the kiss, holding onto him for dear life as Viktor moved his fingers into him; first one, then two, just to make him sing.

“M-More…” Yuuri breathed and broke the kiss to take a breath, baring his neck to Viktor out of sheer instinct. “Please…”

Viktor knew he would never have the heart to deny his mate. Especially not if he asked like this, already half reduced to a whimpering mess in his arms. He pushed Yuuri back against the flat rocks, the omega gasping as his back touched the warm stone. With his free hand, he pulled down Yuuri’s bathing suit, tearing the thin fabric as he pulled it off him and tossed it away, leaving it at the mercy of the waterfall.

“Viktor, please,” Yuuri whined, capturing his husband’s mouth with a hungry kiss. “Have me…”

Viktor had never been happier to oblige. Grasping Yuuri’s hips firmly to keep him up, he pushed into him. Yuuri moaned into the kiss, wrapping his legs tighter around Viktor’s hips as he was taken against the rocks, the rough surface scratching his back, but neither of them couldn’t have cared less in that moment. Viktor had no idea how he managed to remain standing, the ground beneath his feet sandy and slippery in the water. Yuuri held onto him, his arms tightly wrapped around Viktor’s neck, his eyes shut and his neck exposed to his alpha, mewling and whimpering louder with every thrust. Those sounds alone had Viktor’s chest swell with pride, and have him move faster, for Yuuri had been meek and shy and silent in the early days of their marriage. But oh, what a transformation it had been since then. Yuuri was no longer shy to cry out his pleasure, or to demand more of it. And Viktor would always give it to him, would lay the world to his feet if it only made him happy.

Only Yuuri mattered now.

The rest of the world could wait.

Viktor moved him away from the stones to spare Yuuri’s back, carrying him out of the water and onto the grass, laying him down between the most beautiful flowers. There he continued to have him, thrusting into him in a fast and steady rhythm, just the way he knew Yuuri liked it, until his mate cried his name, his nails digging into Viktor’s back as he came with a shout.

A few moments later, Viktor followed, groaning into Yuuri’s neck as he filled him with his seed.

Thank God they had this island to themselves.

Viktor lay down beside Yuuri, not wanting to crush him with his weight, and pulled his mate into his arms. Yuuri sighed contentedly, feeling thoroughly sated, and Viktor could feel the gentle swell of Yuuri’s belly against his thigh.

“You were wonderful,” Viktor murmured, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s wet hair. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Me too,” Yuuri agreed with a soft yawn.

They lay there in silence for a while, basking in the light of the sun above them, listening to the songs of the birds in the trees, and the pattering of the waterfall.

“That was my favourite bathing suit,” Yuuri murmured, looking over at the destroyed piece of clothing that hung entirely forgotten between the twigs of a bush that kept it from being carried away by the water into the open sea.

Viktor leant over and kissed him tenderly. “I’ll buy you a new one. With diamonds.”

Yuuri chuckled, burying his face in Viktor’s neck. “That sounds nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your suggestions! I loved every single one!


	7. Killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!
> 
> We are back at a present-time chapter, with our man Phichit and a rather delighted Chris.

For most people, a charity gala was just that – a gala, organised to raise money for those in need. An evening for and by incredibly rich people, wearing their latest gowns, showing off their jewellery and with it, their wealth. They came to socialise, to exchange pleasantries, and to make sure they always stayed amongst themselves.

For Phichit, however, it was baptism by fire. Tonight, he would be expected to show that he was worth the money the Pakhan paid him every month. Even tonight, he would work, staying within Yuuri’s reach at all times, keeping an eye on him to be at his side should the omega need him.

But that did not mean he couldn’t have at least some fun.

The suit had been sent to him by his mother, together with a string of warnings on how to behave in Russian society as a beta. He had told her not to worry as they had talked over the phone, and had assured her that at his side would be another beta, a foreigner just like him, and keep him company.

For some reason, Phichit felt a little nervous about being Chris’ plus one.

Checking his reflection in the mirror one last time, he left his room and made his way to Yuuri’s apartments where the maids had been busy for the last few hours already. A small army of servants and a seamstress surrounded Yuuri as he stood on the pedestal, almost the very same sight he’d given Phichit upon their first meeting. But this time, Yuuri was dressed in a beautiful, ivory gown with long sleeves and simple, golden ornaments sitting right above his belly, accentuating the gentle curves there. His hair had been styled in the fashion of the 1920s, and his ruby jewellery matched his red lipstick perfectly.

“Ah, there you are,” Yuuri said as he spotted Phichit through the mirror before him. “Finally, someone with taste. Tell me, is it too much?”

Phichit came closer, taking a long, good look at Yuuri’s overall appearance.

“Maybe take off the bracelet,” he suggested. “The earrings, the necklace, and your wedding are already enough.”

“See, I told you,” Yuuri said to the maid beside him and held out his arm so she could take the bracelet off his wrist. “They are gorgeous, are they not?” He touched his earrings with a small smile. “My husband gave them to me just this morning, and the necklace and bracelet, too. As an apology for being so busy lately. There is also a ring, but for tonight, I thought the wedding ring would do. The only ring that matters, after all.”

“They are beautiful, yes,” Phichit agreed. “Your husband is a generous man.”

“Generous, incredibly rich, but above all, incredibly in love with me,” Yuuri chuckled and glanced over his shoulder at the seamstress. “Is everything in place now?”

The woman nodded, stepping back to take a look at her latest masterpiece. “It fits perfectly, your wellborn.”

“Phichit?” Yuuri looked at him, asking for the final opinion.

Phichit walked around the pedestal to take a good look at everything. “She’s right,” he said. “The perfect fit.”

“Oh, finally,” Yuuri sighed and held out first one foot, then the other, allowing a kneeling maid to slip the shoes on them. Phichit noticed that they were of the same shade of red as his lipstick, but that the heels were not as high as one would have thought.

Yuuri seemed to notice his look, and said: “My husband does not like it when I am taller than this,” he said, gesturing at his current height with the shoes and walked over to the dressing table, sitting down to check his make-up one last time. “You can all leave,” he said to his servants. “Thank you, Madame Kovarikova. I’ll make sure my husband pays you handsomely for this dress.”

The woman smiled and took her sewing kit, bowing her head respectfully and leaving the room.

“How about your date for tonight, Phichit?” Yuuri asked, refreshing his lipstick. “Have you seen Chris already? He looks stunning.”

“Not yet,” Phichit said, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve come here directly from my room.”

“Everyone will be jealous of you,” Yuuri smiled at him through the mirror. “Anyway, if I remember correctly, you will take the car after ours. So you have some time to enjoy the view. It’s my husband’s favourite part of any gala or banquet we attend, he says. Just looking at me.” He put the lipstick down, studying his reflection almost thoughtfully. “I often wonder what he sees in me.”

Phichit never knew what to respond whenever Yuuri became like that, thoughtful and almost doubtful of his marriage – as if the omega couldn’t believe that someone actually liked him, yes, even loved him and found him beautiful.

“But who am I to question my husband,” Yuuri sighed and turned around on his chair to face Phichit. “I could have it worse, after all.” He rose to his full height, reaching for the mink fur coat that lay ready on the bed and put it around his shoulders. “Well, then. I’ve let my husband wait long enough.”

And indeed, it was already past seven o’clock – high time for them to leave.

The servants on the corridors respectfully bowed their heads as Yuuri and Phichit walked past them – all because Yuuri did not like being looked at all the time. Phichit had been told about that by Chris over lunch two weeks ago. At least within his own home, Yuuri did not want to be stared at, and Phichit had entirely understood. It was the very reason why only a selected few were allowed to enter Yuuri’s private rooms, all of them servants that Yuuri trusted, and even spoke to. Outside his apartment, however, he was the ever silent, ever submissive mate that the world knew.

Finally, they reached the grand staircase leading down into the magnificent entrance hall. There, under the chandelier and impeccably dressed in a deep burgundy suit, stood the Pakhan himself, talking to Chris, who wore a bespoke black suit himself. At their entrance, the Swiss looked up, smiling at Phichit before nudging the Pakhan with his elbow.

Viktor turned around, his eyes wide at the sight of his gorgeous mate as he descended the stairs.

He met Yuuri at the final steps, reaching out and taking his hands. “My most precious jewel,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “You look… breathtaking.”

Yuuri merely smiled and bashfully looked away, and not just for the presence of several of Viktor’s men.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Viktor said, kissing Yuuri’s knuckles then allowing his mate to take his arm. “Chris, aren’t we the luckiest men in the world? Look at your Phichit.”

“Indeed,” Chris hummed. “But is he really _my_ Phichit?”

“Only for tonight,” Phichit said warningly, but the mere sound of it made his heart flutter so very treacherously.

Viktor laughed. “Oh, I am already quite entertained,” he said. “Now come, my jewel. Off to an evening of good deeds.”

* * *

To Yuuri, the charity had a very special meaning.

It had been in the early weeks of their marriage, during their honeymoon. Whilst exploring New York City, they had stumbled upon an Omega Care Center in Manhattan, offering services such as legal advise and counselling. Yuuri, who had grown up sheltered and hidden away from the real world, had not even been aware of the existence of such institutions – that there were people who wanted to help omegas and strengthen their position in society. When he had asked Viktor about the situation in Russia, he had learnt that there were some services, and helped Yuuri to look into them. What he learnt then was that the major problem was the high rate of homelessness of single omega mothers – and that no one seemed to feel responsible for them.

Sleepless nights had followed, until Yuuri had told Viktor his wish.

Back in Russia, Viktor had founded a charity in Yuuri’s name, meant to support those omegas who could not support themselves. And since Viktor was a person of public interest and knew the rich and powerful, the charity had been successful from the very beginning – and its galas a popular event for those who wanted to be seen.

Yuuri knew that he was in an incredibly privileged position. He would never be abandoned by his alpha. He would never go hungry, or have to sleep on the streets. But for many other omegas, this was the harsh reality, and now that he was in a position of power, he wanted to do everything he could to help, even if it was just a little bit.

“Are you nervous, darling?” Viktor asked after they had driven off, both of them having settled in the backseat of the car. “There is no need. People will find you nothing but stunning.”

“The problem is that they will look at me,” Yuuri replied, turning his head to look at his husband. “But that is something that I can live with.”

Viktor looked at him sympathetically, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “None of their gazes are ill-meaning,” he said. “But I understand what you mean. I hope that Phichit’s presence will bring you some comfort.”

Yuuri bowed his head a little. “Your presence at my side is enough comfort to me, Vitya,” he said, lacing their fingers together. “Please don’t sit away from me during dinner.”

“I would never,” Viktor said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. Now, he wouldn’t. In the past, however, they had sat apart at a particular event, Yuuri sitting between two rather eager betas who wanted to make conversation, and Viktor trapped between business partners from the Czech Republic. He had been able to sense his mate’s distress the whole time, and yet, he had not been able to go and rescue him.

That night, on the way back home, Yuuri had refused to even look at him, and had thrown him out of their bedroom, leaving him to sleep on the couch.

Yuuri knew that Viktor never wanted such a night to repeat itself.

“Who will be there tonight?” Yuuri asked, changing the subject. “Are we amongst ourselves? Or are people of the regular world with us during the dinner?”

“Of course not,” Viktor said. “There are important things to discuss that we possibly couldn’t talk about if an actor or singer sat with us. No, during dinner, we’ll be entirely amongst ourselves. Later, for the dance, we’ll mingle with the ordinary people.”

“You mingle,” Yuuri reminded him gently. He wouldn’t ever think of making conversation with people he didn’t know, let alone dance with another person that was not Victor.

“Right, I mingle,” Viktor chuckled. “I’ll leave you in the very capable hands of Phichit. By the way, did you see how Chris looked at him?”

Yuuri laughed. “Of course. He was undressing him with his eyes.”

“Do you approve, though?”

Yuuri shrugged, crossing his legs. “I don’t see why it shouldn’t be. Phichit is very dear to me, and Chris, despite his image, is a charming young man in desperate need of a husband that keeps him tied to the ground.”

“A charming young man in desperate need of a husband,” Viktor repeated and laughed heartily. “You have read Jane Austen lately?”

Yuuri smiled. “I loved the collection of her works that you gave me,” he said softly. “The books are very beautiful.”

Viktor leant over to kiss him. “I knew you would like them,” he said. “And I must say I would love to see you in a gown like the Bennet sisters wear.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “You only watched Pride and Prejudice because of Colin Firth, am I right?”

“Yuuuuri!”

The gala was held in one of the oldest and most magnificent buildings in St. Petersburg, bringing back memories of a time long gone – a time of Tsars and imperial magnificence, of winter nights illuminated by candles, and dances to the sounds of the balalaika. Only the richest of the rich could afford to host a gala in such a place, with such magnificence and splendour.

But for a man like Viktor Nikiforov, it was a simple thing to arrange such an event.

The car parked right in front of the building, the photographers waiting outside eagerly getting ready to snap the perfect picture of the richest man of Russia – and at his side, his mysterious, ever silent mate.

Inside the car, Viktor turned to Yuuri, reaching out to adjust the mink fur coat around his shoulders. “I don’t want you to catch a cold in this terrible weather,” he said, making sure it sat perfectly and kept him warm. “Are you ready, my jewel?”

Yuuri smiled softly. “I doubt that I will ever be,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Viktor leant over and pressed a tender kiss to his lips, careful not to ruin the make-up. The driver then opened the door, and Viktor, putting on the smile he was so very famous for, stepped out into the frenzy of flashing cameras.

Yuuri sighed, mentally preparing himself for what would follow. He took the hand his husband offered him, lacing their fingers together as he climbed out of the car.

“Mr. Nikiforov! To us, please!”

“What are you wearing, Mr. Nikiforov?”

“What is your mate wearing, Sir?”

“Smile for the camera, your wellborn, please!”

Yuuri didn’t react to the photographers – he never did. He left the smiling, waving, and making comments entirely to his husband, merely hanging on Viktor’s arm and keeping his gaze lowered, as if none of it interested him at all. He had often wondered how Viktor did it – how he managed to smile and wave as if people were not shoving cameras into his face and asking him a thousand questions at once. Viktor had told him that he didn’t really know either, that he just took a deep breath and went with it.

It was something he had always admired about Viktor, and he was sure he would never be able to achieve the same level of confidence.

Viktor knew how uncomfortable he felt in front of cameras, and so, he made quick work of the journalist, answering only two or three questions, not stopping to pose for any photographs as they walked up the red carpet and the massive stairs.

The moment they entered the building and left the photographers behind, Yuuri let out the breath he had not realised he had been holding, and moved closer to Viktor, who wrapped an arm around his waist and gave his hip a gentle squeeze.

“Are you okay?” He whispered into his ear.

Yuuri nodded lightly.

A minute later, Phichit and Chris arrived in the hall, the mere sight of familiar faces calming Yuuri immensely. The majority of people around them were famous faces; actors, singers, business people. But amongst them were also those of the world of crime, partners of the Bratva from both Russia and abroad. With those people, they would dine – followed by dances and an auction of contemporary art.

“Nikiforov-sama!” A tall, Japanese man with a friendly face approached them, shaking Viktor’s hand warmly. “How wonderful to see you again. And your mate, too!”

“Morooka,” Viktor said. “How nice to see you again. I assume that Katsuki-sama has sent you?”

“Indeed,” Morooka confirmed, bowing his head before turning to Yuuri, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. “Your mother and sister asked me to give you their warmest regards.”

Yuuri gave the other man a warm smile, the only thing he was able to give him as some sort of answer while they were other people around them. Morooka, however, would know how grateful he was for the gesture, and Yuuri made a mental note to thank him later in private. Perhaps invite the other man for dinner before his return to Japan.

“I hope my mother-in-law and sister-in-law are doing well?” Viktor asked. “I haven’t had the chance to call them lately.”

“They are doing very well, Sir,” Morooka answered. “I had the honour of meeting Hiroko-sama a few weeks ago. What a wonderful woman.”

“Indeed,” Viktor said and glanced at his watch. “I believe it is time for us to begin with the banquet. I assume you will be joining us? My jewel here is incredibly happy to have a familiar face nearby. Would you be so kind to sit close to him, beside Mr. Chulanont?”

Morooka beamed. “Of course! What an honour!”

“Very well,” Viktor said and gave the man a small smile before returning his attention to his mate. “Come, my darling.”

Yuuri inclined his head to Morooka in greeting before following his husband, holding onto his arm as they went upstairs to the banquet room, Phichit and Chris following close behind.

Since becoming Viktor’s mate, Yuuri had attended many banquets, balls, and galas with him, all of them magnificent. An opulent dining room with silver platters and glasses filled with the finest wines were nothing new to him and hardly impressed him anymore. It was almost ordinary by now, and Yuuri barely looked at the luxurious display as Viktor helped him out of his coat and pulled back his chair for him. A moment later, Phichit sat down beside him, having his own chair pulled out for him by Chris. Yuuri couldn’t help but notice the blush on his friend’s cheeks, and he exchanged a knowing look with Chris before casting his eyes down again, listening to the sound of people filling the room.

Each banquet was the same affair as the one before: A speech, several courses of dinner, alongside light conversation. It was pure sensory overload for Yuuri, who hence kept to himself, not joining the others in their mindless chatter. It was not always easy to do so, especially when Viktor had to engage in polite conversation with people they both despised. But this time, there was Phichit, and at his side, Morooka – both of them people that Yuuri trusted, and who both knew that even if Yuuri was not speaking, he was listening. And so, they somehow found a way to include him in the conversation, Morooka telling them about his wife and children waiting at home in Japan, and how his wife was more respected within the Yakuza than he was, since she was a friend of Yuuri’s sister Mari. Yuuri had not seen his sister in two years – she had not even been allowed to come to the wedding, and neither had his mother. Too dangerous, his uncle had claimed, and although Yuuri knew that the man was right, he missed them terribly. Phone calls and video chats could only do so much. Besides missing them, he wanted them to meet Viktor in person, and assure them that he was happy with him. That was his mother’s greatest worry, and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to show her that he was loved.

Every now and then, Yuuri would feel the hand of his husband on his thigh, resting there innocently, reassuring him of his presence. It was their silent way of communicating with other people around; innocent touches and gestures that let the other one know that they were fine. Yuuri gently touched Viktor’s hand in return, and Viktor took his hand away again.

Eventually, sometime between the last main course and dessert, Viktor rose from his chair, gently tapping his glass of wine with one of the tiny, golden spoons. Immediately, the conversations died down around him, and everyone was looking at him attentively. Yuuri couldn’t help but admire the way his husband looked in the light of the chandeliers.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Viktor began, his smile the perfect one everyone knew from pictures, the very one that Yuuri hated so very much. “Partners. Friends. I would like to thank you from the very bottom of my heart for joining us here tonight, for a purpose as important as no other. To help those who are in need.”

People applauded politely, and Viktor kept smiling benevolently. “I know,” he continued, “that in our particular circles, omegas live very different lives. We are wealthy enough to offer them safety and a life in luxury. They do not have to worry about what they will have to eat the next day, or if their children will be warm enough to survive the night. But these omegas are not any different from ours. Just like them, they love their children deeply, and were once devoted to their alphas. Alphas that took advantage of them, abandoned them, left them to die in the streets.”

Viktor paused there, letting his words sink in. “When my jewel saw that there were no organisations in Russia solely focused on helping omegas in need, he was in great distress. It was therefore only natural for me to found such a charity to tackle the problems of our society, and to help omegas that are in need. For no omega willingly sleeps on the streets, or leaves their children on the stairs of churches and omega centres – only when the alternative would mean further abuse through the hands of the one that should protect them, or certain death.

We all are in very privileged positions. We do not have to worry about money, or food, or places to sleep. In the recent years, omega rights have improved immensely in the Western world. We are not at the end of our journey yet, but we have come a long way since the days of legal omega enslavement.”

Again, there was applause.

“And yet,” Viktor continued, “in many societies, omegas are still treated worse than animals. They have no worth, and exist only to serve their masters. It is the aim of our charity to end this practice, in every nation, in every city, in every town, in every tiny village – and we start where help is needed the most. We give helpless omegas and their children a home and a future. With the money we raise tonight, we will build omega care centres across the country. So please, give as much as you can. Not for my sake, or my mate’s – but for all those mothers and children in need. Thank you.”

He sat down again as the whole table erupted into applause for this emotional speech, and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at his husband, reaching openly for his hand and lacing their fingers together. All of this Viktor did in his name – all because he had asked him for it, two years ago on their honeymoon, even before they had confessed their love to each other in words. Viktor’s interest in omega rights was real. It was not the fake engagement many famous people showed, but genuine interest in improving the situation. Not just in Russia, but across all borders.

“A fine speech!” Someone called from Viktor’s side of the table, raising his glass for a toast. “The Pakhan has addressed many important points,” he said, his speech slurring a little from drinking too much. “But, y’know… I don’t think that there’s actually ever a case of taking advantage of an omega that legally belongs to you?”

Immediately, the applause died down, the whole room staring at the man in bewilderment. Not many dared to speak up against Viktor Nikiforov in public, and those were usually only close friends, or his oldest and most important business partners. The man speaking, however, was merely a delegate, one of the kind that had made his money in prostitution and human trafficking.

In Viktor’s eyes, and in many more, the lowest of the low.

“Who are you again?” Viktor asked him, staring down at the man who nonchalantly refilled his glass with wine.

“Fyodor Turgenev, Sir,” Viktor’s bodyguard informed him quietly from behind him. “From the Moscow branch.”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed further. “Well, Turgenev,” he said coldly, Yuuri’s hand warningly on his thigh. The last thing Yuuri wanted was for Viktor to become upset about a nobody that had drunken too much and did not know what he was saying. There were more elegant ways to deal with such a person. In private. “I cannot see a bond mark on you. Therefore, I don’t think you should be speaking about such matters.”

He turned his head away and reached for his glass for a toast, but Turgenev spoke again.

“T’is not necessary to have a bond to know these things, y’know,” he declared. “I mean, just look at them. Look at all those pretty, fancy omegas here tonight, with their pretty faces and their pretty arses and their pretty jewellery making them look like a tasty Christmas feast. It is kinda inviting, isn’t it? I can’t be the only one thinking that.”

“I believe you should think very carefully about your words,” an alpha from the other side of the table said warningly. “Before you accidentally insult someone.”

Turgenev hiccuped. “Oh, I’d never!” He exclaimed. “But just, I mean—look at those two over there.” He gestured at a pair of omega twins, both of Korean descent. “In their culture, they’re literally raised to keep their mouth shut and do as they’re told! Just look at the Pakhan, everyone! Why d’you think he got himself a Japanese one?” He laughed. “Certainly not for homemade sushi!”

Yuuri could sense the rapid rise of anger in his husband, and clutched his hand tightly in warning, trying his best to keep him calm before he could do anything stupid that he would regret later.

“How dare you to insult us!” The alpha of the Korean twins shouted angrily, half-rising from his chair, only held back by his wives.

“Remove this man from the premises,” Viktor ordered as calmly as he could, looking back at his bodyguards. “He is drunk and does not know what he’s saying.”

The bodyguards nodded and approached the man, who chuckled and raised his hands in defence. “Come on, it’s in their blood! They’re Asians! And it’s not even exclusive to omegas, it’s all of their women, really! Last time I visited the Yakuza there was this alpha girl, piercings all up her ear, her hair bleached blonde like a whore, come on! Anyone would’ve tried to get their hands on’er!”

“Out with him!” Viktor hissed over the general outraged voices of his guests. “I don’t want to see his—”

“I want him dead.”

It was as if all voices had been turned off by a switch.

Yuuri sat on his chair beside Viktor, his hand digging into his husband’s thigh, his gaze fixed on the table cloth before him. Never had he spoken in public before, having been unable to, his anxiety holding him in its firm grasp. But despite the fact his voice had been shaking, his words had been loud and clear.

Viktor understood.

Within the blink of an eye, he had risen from his chair and had pulled out the gun he always kept safely tucked away under his suit jacket. The people gasped, parting like the red sea as the Pakhan took aim at Turgenev, who only then realised what was going on and tried to run, but stumbled over his own feet and fell. Suddenly sobered, he tried to get up again, but Viktor’s men circled around him, making an escape impossible.

It was deadly quiet in the room, the only sounds the pathetic whimpers of Turgenev and Viktor’s footsteps on the marble floor as he approached him. He came to stand before him, looking down at the man as if he were an insect to be crushed beneath his feet.

“You see,” Viktor said as he very calmly pulled a cigarette out of the pack sitting in his breast pocket. “My mate doesn’t like it when I smoke. In fact, he hates it.” He held out his hand without looking back, patiently waiting for his Yuuri to place a lighter in his palm. Yuuri rose from his chair, walking over to Viktor.

“But,” Viktor continued as his mate lit the cigarette between his lips, “he tolerates it. In that regard, he is rather compliant.”

The Pakhan took a drag of his cigarette, long and deep, allowing the tobacco to fill his lungs whilst his victim quivered before him. Yuuri tossed the lighter aside and moved closer to his husband, an arm protectively around Viktor’s waist, and dipped his head, as if the whole affair did not concern him at all.

“When it comes to other things, however, he isn’t as patient. Such as the wellbeing and safety of his sister. You see, the woman that you so proudly groped was my dear sister-in-law. I am actually surprised she let you live. I have been told she is quite the scary woman.”

He blew out the smoke, right into Turgenev’s face, studying the man before him thoroughly with clear disgust on his face.

“I tolerate many things, too,” Viktor said. “Idiots, for example. Greed, too. But what I can and will not tolerate is disrespect.” He cocked his gun, and Turgenev’s eyes widened even more.

“B-But Sir!” He cried. “I- I- I didn’t disrespect you! I’d never! I just had a lil’ too much to drink, is all!”

Viktor huffed. “To disrespect me is one thing,” he said. “But to disrespect my mate, and his family, is something entirely different.”

“I’m sorry!” Turgenev screamed, now on his knees, bowing before both of them. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

It was a pathetic sight, Yuuri thought as he watched the Russian from the corner of his eye. To quiver before Viktor like this, to beg for his life, after confessing for everyone to hear. It should not be like this, for an omega to worry so much about an alpha sibling. Nature had designed it the other way round, for alphas worrying about their omega siblings, to keep them safe and away from those who could possibly harm him. But then again, Yuuri had stopped caring about nature and tradition a long time ago.

Mari would do the same for him.

Yuuri’s eyes followed down Viktor’s arm to the gun in his hands, ready to end the miserable life of the man before them. Viktor would do it without hesitation – there was no doubt to that. There were things one had to do as a Pakhan, and Yuuri knew how much his husband despised them. He knew how much Viktor hated to kill, took no pleasure in it, and how every single kill haunted him.

A man like Turgenev was not worth the bullet.

Not worth the pain.

Yuuri raised his head, standing on his toes to whisper into Viktor’s ear.

“Ruin him.”

Viktor’s entire posture changed in an instant, invisible for the bystanders, but clearly for Yuuri to feel. He glanced at the men that had circled Turgenev.

“See to it that this man will no longer be associated with the Bratva,” he said. “Make sure that his name is from now on worthless. No business he starts will be successful. From now on, he does no longer exist.”

“NO!” Turgenev screamed, throwing himself to Viktor’s feet in a last attempt to save himself, but Viktor’s men had already grabbed him and dragged him out of the room.

“This marble floor does not deserve to be stained with worthless blood,” Viktor murmured, more to himself than to anyone else, tucking his gun away once more before wrapping an arm around Yuuri’s waist protectively and kissing his hair. Yuuri allowed himself to lean into his touch for just a little longer than appropriate, needing the reassuring warmth of his husband.

“Thank you,” he whispered into Viktor’s suit.

Viktor squeezed his waist in return.

The banquet continued as if nothing had happened at all. Dessert consisted of molten chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream, a dish that was one of Yuuri’s favourites, and he needed it now more than ever. He could feel both Viktor’s and Phichit’s eyes on him, knew that both of them were still worried, but Yuuri focused on his meal and pretended not to care that the other guests were looking at him, too, fascinated by the fact that the Pakhan’s mate had spoken in public for the very first time.

To Yuuri, it couldn’t have mattered less.

His thoughts were with Mari alone, and he hated himself for the fact he had not been able to protect her from such a brute.

After the banquet, everyone moved to the ballroom, but Yuuri stayed behind, waiting patiently for his husband to finish whatever polite conversation he was having to inform him of his decision to leave.

Viktor was not surprised, understanding as always, but hid his disappointment rather poorly. “I’m so sorry that this has happened, my jewel,” he said, taking Yuuri’s hands and kissing them both. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? We can retreat to a corner and be all to ourselves, if you like.”

Yuuri smiled softly at the idea, and even more at the puppy eyes his husband gave him. “That sounds lovely, Viktor, but I don’t think I can bear the looks any longer,” he admitted. “And I want to call Mari.”

Viktor nodded understandingly. “Of course. I will try to not come home too late. But don’t stay up for me, yes?”

“Okay.” Yuuri closed his eyes as Viktor kissed him, with such tenderness and adoration that he briefly wondered if he could maybe survive another hour, just to stay at his side.

“Phichit,” Viktor called, waving the other man over. “Be so kind and accompany my jewel home.”

“Yes, Sir,” Phichit said firmly, shooting an apologetic glance at Chris, who was waiting for him at the door to the ballroom.

Yuuri lowered his gaze. “I’m really sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to ruin the evening for everyone.”

Viktor shook his head and cupped his cheeks. “I’d stop the world from turning if it only brought justice to you and those you love,” he said, kissing Yuuri once more, long and gentle, before finally pulling away. “Text me when you are home, yes?”

And so, Yuuri found himself in the back of the car they had come in, Phichit at his side as they drove through St. Petersburg at night, illuminated by hundreds of thousands of lights. The driver had turned off the radio per Yuuri’s request, for music would have upset him even more now, and done the exact opposite of calming the storm inside his head. The food seemed to sit heavy in his stomach, even though he had not even had much, and he felt the headache already coming. It was another thirty minutes until home, where he could lie down and rest, away from the ever-prying crowds.

“Yuuri?”

Phichit was looking at him, in his hands a bottle of water and a pill.

“Ibuprofen,” he said.

Yuuri took the medicine, washing it down with the water, emptying the whole bottle in one go. There was a reason he only ever drank little alcohol, and he hoped the water would stop the worst headache from coming.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Phichit asked as he took the bottle from him again.

Yuuri shook his head. “There’s nothing to say, I think.”

“I’m here, if you need me.”

Yuuri managed a nod, resting his head against the cool window and closing his eyes.

At home, Phichit made sure that there were no servants present before escorting Yuuri to his rooms. Only a single light was on in the bedroom, just enough for the two of them. Phichit drew the curtains as Yuuri took off his jewellery, then moved to help him out of the dress. It would most likely never be worn again.

Once Yuuri was in his pyjamas, he sat down at the dressing table and removed his make-up, taking off layer after layer until he recognised himself in the mirror again. Finally, he was Yuuri again, mate of Viktor. Nothing more, and nothing less.

“Thank you for coming back with me, Phichit,” he said quietly, turning around on the stool. “I know you were looking forward to an evening with Chris.”

Phichit blushed, but immediately shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Your wellbeing is much more important.” He put the dress on a hanger and carried it away to the walk-in closet.

Yuuri sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Moments like the one tonight were the reason he did not mess with Viktor’s business. It was cruel and cold, and forced Viktor to put on a mask, to pretend to be someone he was not. To see him fake smiles, to see him ready to kill someone just for Yuuri’s honour – it had always been too much for Yuuri.

But as the child of a Yakuza family, there never had been another life.

Viktor did his best to keep him away from the business, offering him a life where he never had to worry. Indeed, Yuuri was one of the lucky ones, never going hungry, never sleeping in the cold, never unloved. But Yuuri feared the moments when their worlds clashed, when Viktor, his husband, had to become Pakhan right before him.

In such moments, he realised how fragile their life together was.

That a single bullet could take Viktor away from him.

Yuuri looked down at his wedding ring, sparkling in the dimmed light.

“Can I get you anything?”

Yuuri looked up as Phichit spoke, finding his friend standing by the door, one hand on the handle. “I’m okay,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He looked down at his ring again, the weight of it heavy on his finger.

“Night, Yuuri.”

The door closed with a quiet ‘click’.

Carefully, Yuuri took off his ring, turning it over in the light of the lamp. He still remembered how happy Viktor had looked as he had put it on his finger, and how excited he had been to show the engraving on the inside to Yuuri.

_On my Love._

Putting the ring back on his finger, Yuuri slipped under the covers, and turned off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I absolutely based Yuuri's dress on an evening gown from The Sims 4.


	8. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone! :)  
> It took me longer to update this time, I know. The reason is simple: it's exam season in Germany and I have to study. But today, I finally found the time and muse to finish this chapter. I hope you like it!
> 
> Back to Pre-Phichit times again, to the honeymoon!

New York City welcomed them in the iciest weather that they had experienced on their honeymoon so far. It was mid-February, the eighth week of their honeymoon, and their last stop in the US before they were to leave for Europe again. Seeing the United States had been incredibly interesting to Yuuri, especially seeing all those confident, proud omegas walking around in public, unmated and sure of themselves. He knew that in the Western world, omegas lived very different lives, but to witness it all in person was something else than just to read about it. What had impressed Yuuri the most, however, had been the existence of the many charities dedicated to helping omegas in need. That alone had left Yuuri sleepless the following night.

Viktor had noticed, of course. Over breakfast, then, Yuuri had not been able to hold back any longer, asking his husband about all the charities that they were, if there were organisations like that in Japan and Russia, too, the mere fact that there were people working to help omegas, and not oppress them blowing his mind. Viktor had promptly called Chris, asking him to email him a list of all charities related to omega welfare, and had promised Yuuri with a kiss to look further into the matter.

Now that Yuuri sat on the sofa of their hotel suite, a stunning view of Central Park before him and the list of charities in his hands, he realised that despite many charities for omegas in Russia, most of them were small and operated only in specific places. And none of them were for single omega mothers – those that needed the most help.

Absentmindedly, he touched his belly, caressing the small swell there that had not disappeared since the day his last period had ended. He would never have to worry about the wellbeing of his children. They would always have a place to sleep, a roof above their heads, and food to eat. They would be loved by both mother and father. They would never be alone.

Yuuri sighed, listening to the sounds of the shower coming from the bathroom. Viktor had offered him they could shower together, but Yuuri was not in the mood for the intimacy his husband most likely expected, and had remained in the living room. They would not go out today and merely relax before the banquet they would attend that night. Viktor had even bought him a new gown for the occasion, a stunning blue dress with pearls around the collar to be worn with a white fur stole around his neck. Yuuri had been speechless at the sight of it, and even more at the sight of the pearl earrings Viktor had gifted him. He did not even want to ask how much those had cost his husband, but then again, Viktor was not the sort to care for money.

It was best, Yuuri had learnt, not to question what his husband gave him.

The shower was then turned off, and a few minutes later, Viktor emerged from the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Yuuri briefly smiled at him before looking down at the list in his hands again. Viktor sat down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders and pecking his cheek.

“You smell nice,” Yuuri said, leaning against his husband’s chest.

“Do you want to know my secret to this irresistible smell?” Viktor grinned. “Soap.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s a miracle,” Viktor laughed and kissed him again, on the mouth this time. “What do you think of the list? Any interesting charities on it that you would like to support?”

Yuuri shook his head. “There are none that support single omega mothers,” he said. “This is… worrying. I mean, it’s so cold in New York already, I don’t even want to imagine what it must be like in Russia…” He looked out of the window, watching the snow fall.

“How about… you start your own charity?” Viktor suggested.

Yuuri frowned. “My own charity?” He repeated.

“Why not?” Viktor asked.

“I could never lead a charity, Viktor,” Yuuri said weakly.

“I’m sure you would do it wonderfully,” Viktor said confidently and leant forward to kiss his forehead. “My proud, strong mate, running a business.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I could never do that,” he murmured.

“Give it a thought, darling,” Viktor said. “Now, let’s watch a film and get ready for the banquet later, hm? How does that sound?”

For the next few hours, neither of them left the sofa, watching film after film whilst being cuddled together under a soft blanket. Yuuri lay between Viktor’s legs, his head resting on his chest, dozing off every now and then. It was hard to stay awake, Yuuri found, resting in his husband’s arms and basking in his warmth. Viktor’s hand in his hair did the rest, just like the kisses he pressed to Yuuri’s temple every now and then.

It was like Heaven.

All too soon, however, it was time to get ready for the banquet. The dress Viktor had bought him lay ready for him on the bed, the fabric soft between Yuuri’s fingers as he picked it up and held it up against his chest. To wear clothes like this was still very new to him, and he wondered if he should ask Viktor to let him wear a kimono instead. But he had to get used to it, he told himself, get used to the world that Viktor lived in, and take his place at his side.

“Do you need help with the dress, darling?” Viktor asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, impeccably dressed in a suit that probably cost more than the daily rate for their hotel suite. Looking at Viktor alone made Yuuri’s mouth go dry.

“Y-Yes,” he said and looked away, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. “Can you help me with the zipper?”

He heard Viktor approach him from behind, feeling his large, yet surprisingly gentle hands on his waist, zipping up the dress. “You look lovely,” Viktor murmured and pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s neck that made his knees feel so very weak. But a moment later, Viktor had let go of him again, stepping back to put on his watch. Yuuri murmured a soft thank you and reached for the pearl earrings that Viktor had bought him, admiring them for a moment before putting them on. Despite their small size, they felt heavy, as if to remind him that they were of incredible worth.

The shoes, fortunately, were flat enough for Yuuri to walk in comfortably, and the white fur stole was soft and warm against his skin. He turned around, facing his husband, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

Viktor raised his head, his eyes slightly widening at the sight of his mate, the phone suddenly forgotten entirely.

He rose from the bed and closed the distance between them, cupping Yuuri’s cheeks ever so carefully. “Look at you, my jewel,” Viktor said softly, kissing his forehead. “How beautiful you are.”

Yuuri blushed even more. “The… the stole is very pretty,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Viktor smiled and kissed him again. “Everyone will ignore me tonight and just admire you. I know it.”

Yuuri shivered at the mere thought of that. “I don’t know if I want that…”

Viktor shook his head. “Just remember that they are looking at you because they admire you. Not because they want to do you harm. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yuuri whispered. “We… we can go.”

A car had been sent to pick them up from the hotel, the driver holding the doors open for them. They got into the back of the car, a sleek, elegant BMW that probably cost a small fortune. But Viktor did not even bat an eye at the luxurious interior, but pulled Yuuri closer, an arm around his waist as he nuzzled his neck.

“What a lovely mate I have with me,” he hummed in delight. “I cannot wait to show you off. Everyone will be jealous of me.”

“J-Jealous?” Yuuri squeaked as Viktor’s hand went dangerously low on his waist.

“Hmm, yes,” Viktor murmured, kissing along the jawline of his mate. “They will be so jealous that I have such a beautiful mate. They would go crazy if they also knew how incredibly kind and intelligent you are.”

That was one of the many things that Yuuri had grown to love about his husband – he was never shy to pay Yuuri compliments that he truly meant, never just praising his beauty, but clarifying that there was so much more about Yuuri that he liked, and that alone made Yuuri’s heart soar every single time.

That, and Viktor’s touches.

“V-Viktor!” Yuuri breathed. “Think of the driver…”

“Oh, I’m sure he won’t tell,” Viktor hummed but pulled away slightly, his hand moving up to rest on Yuuri’s hipbone again. “But I’ll behave. Just for you.”

Yuuri shivered, settling against Viktor’s side, grateful that his husband was so considerate. The last thing he wanted now was to arrive to his first public appearance with Viktor with fresh love bites or soaked knickers.

“Have you ever met the de la Iglesia family?” Viktor asked instead of keeping flirting.

“No,” Yuuri answered, shaking his head. “Perhaps some of them were in Shanghai that night, but I never was introduced to one.”

“Yes, Gomez de la Iglesia was there,” Viktor said. “He is the one hosting the banquet tonight. He has a young son, I believe. Should be about the same age as the heir of the Ji family.”

“Guang Hong?” Yuuri asked. “He’s… fourteen now, I think.”

“Just a little younger than my brother, then,” Viktor mused. “Speaking of Yura – what do you think should we bring him as a souvenir? He’s really into tigers recently, I’ve been told.”

For the rest of the drive, they spoke about possible gifts for Viktor’s brother, and Viktor introduced Yuuri to Pinterest on his phone, showing him the ideas that he already had. Yuuri realised that his brother seemed to be very important to Viktor, even if he complained about him being at the height of puberty a lot.

Eventually, they arrived at one of New York’s famous skyscrapers. Their driver opened their doors for them, stepping aside as they were promptly greeted by delegates of the de la Iglesia family. Yuuri moved closer to his husband, trying to make himself look as small as possible at his husband’s side out of sheer instinct. Viktor kept his hand on the small of his back, exchanging a few words with the delegates before taking Yuuri inside and to the elevators.

Once the doors closed behind them, Yuuri exhaled shakily.

“Are you alright, my jewel?” Viktor asked softly, giving his waist a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay,” Yuuri murmured, taking a few deep breaths. “I’ve just… never been in public like this.”

Viktor nodded understandingly. “Don’t worry, my love,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’m with you. If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to. I’ll just say that your English is not very good. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Claiming that he didn’t speak English sounded like the best option for their current situation, and Yuuri was sure that no one would doubt it. After all, he had been spoken to in very slow English or had been asked “Chinese?” quite a few times on their honeymoon so far.

How they would look if they knew that he spoke not only English and Japanese, but also Russian and yes, indeed, some Chinese.

Just because he was an omega it did not mean that he was uneducated.

The elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened, revealing to them a large ballroom filled with people in suits and gorgeous evening gowns.

“Ready?” Viktor whispered, his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri barely managed to nod before they stepped into the lion’s den.

The people turned their heads, men and women of all nationalities studying them from head to toe, nodding at Viktor in greeting as they walked past them, their eyes lingering on Yuuri. For them, he was a curiosity, the mysterious new mate of the Pakhan that they had heard about.

Yuuri hated every second of it.

Fortunately, Viktor knew, and he took him to the other side of the ballroom towards a sitting area where a small group of men stood with drinks in their hands, behind them women sitting on the sofas, in their hands glasses of sparkling champagne.

One of the men, a middle-aged man with dark hair and a white suit, exclaimed a cheer at Viktor’s and Yuuri’s sight and came forward with open arms.

“Viktor!” He said with a laugh and patted his shoulders. “So happy that you could come! Welcome to our humble banquet!”

“Gomez, it is a pleasure,” Viktor said with a smile. “Of course I had to come. How could I not, when being in New York already?”

Gomez beamed at him. “And this is your mate that we have all heard about,” he said, reaching out to take Yuuri’s hand for a kiss to its back. But Yuuri tightly held onto Viktor’s arm with both hands, looking down at his feet and trying not to flee.

Viktor inclined his head. “You must forgive my mate, Gomez,” he said casually, as if his mate had not actually insulted the other man by declining the kiss. “He is very shy, and his command of English is not very good.”

“Ah!” Gomez nodded understandingly, much to everyone’s surprise. “Of course. And then so many new people! He is Japanese, is he not?”

“Correct,” Viktor said, remembering that Gomez had always had a soft spot for omegas, and was one of the few alphas of their kind that only had one partner – a wife that he had been devoted to for almost twenty years now. “And I’m afraid he has been raised away from the public eye. Events like this one are rather difficult for him still.”

“Ah, not to worry, not to worry,” Gomez assured him. “We are all friends here, are we not? No reason to be worried, we will take good care of you both. Come, let us sit and have a drink! You must tell me about your meeting with the Lee family. Say, is Dae-young still so hesitant about the matter?”

Yuuri held firmly onto Viktor’s arm as they were led to a sofa in the corner, sitting down at his side and moving as close to him as possible. There were so many people around them, so many strangers looking at him, that only Viktor’s presence and his arm around his waist kept him from running out of the room. He had not expected it to be so bad.

He had thought he could do this.

Viktor’s grip around his waist tightened a little, caressing his hipbone through the fabric of Yuuri’s dress.

It was as if time was passing slower than usual. The members of the de la Iglesia family – for this was what these men were, Yuuri realised quickly – seemed friendly enough, but he could still feel their eyes on them, studying him curiously because he was an oddity to them. Had they never seen an Asian omega, Yuuri wondered?

Viktor, however, seemed entirely content in the company of these people. He talked smoothly with them, exchanging pleasantries and information. Yuuri understood very little of it all, never having been allowed so close to his uncle’s business. As an omega, he had been separated from the ‘family business’, and his mother had advised him to stay away from it all before he had left Japan to get married. He had expected Viktor to keep his business away from him and treat him the way most alphas in the world of crime treated their partners. But here he sat, right next to his husband, an arm around his waist and caressing his hipbone, listening to their darkest secrets.

“You know, Viktor,” Gomez said, leaning towards him with a cigar between his fingers. “There is _something_ I’d like to show you. Right next door. The finest shipment from Thailand.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, obviously intrigued. “I thought it was impossible to get _it_ from Thailand these days?”

“Indeed,” Gomez confirmed, his eyes sparkling with glee. “But you see, the Chulanonts are very helpful with _it_ when they owe you something.”

Viktor chuckled. “I understand. Yes, I would very much like to see _it_.” He glanced over at Yuuri. “But I don’t think something like _that_ is a sight for my most precious jewel.”

“Not a problem!” Gomez assured him and rose. “My wife and her sisters would be delighted to take care of your mate while we were gone! Right, Carla?”

“Of course,” one of the women on the sofa said and rose, making her way over to their group.

Viktor hesitated, knowing very well how Yuuri reacted to strangers, and how uneasy he felt in public. “Darling,” he said softly in Russian. “Do you think you’d be fine for ten minutes without me?”

Yuuri wanted to say no, wanted to hold onto Viktor and never let go again, afraid of being left behind without him in a room full of strangers. But this was Viktor the Pakhan, not just his husband. A Pakhan had duties. Obligations. Who was he, a mere omega, to stand in his way?

He managed to nod, feeling Viktor’s lips against his forehead as a response. “Good. Sit with Carla, yes?”

And with that, Viktor rose, pulling Yuuri with him and leaving him in the care of the women that had eyed him curiously all night. Yuuri could feel Carla’s hand on his arm, but he had no eyes for her, watching Viktor walk away until his husband was out of sight, nowhere to be seen.

Carla patiently pulled him with her to the sofa, letting him take a seat beside her and putting a glass of wine in his hands that Yuuri barely managed to hold. Never before had he been alone with so many strangers, not even at home in Japan. There, he had had at least Mari or his mother to hold onto.

He was supposed to have Viktor at his side.

“Are you alright?” Carla asked softly from beside him.

Yuuri put the glass down, mumbling an apology that was barely audible and rose from the sofa, fleeing from the room as fast as he could.

He had no idea where he was going, the people looking at him curiously as he rushed past them in search for a place where it was quiet. Why was it so hard to find a place that was quiet? A place where no one was looking, watching, whispering, gossiping? He pushed several doors open, wandering through corridors until he finally found an empty room. The door fell shut behind him and Yuuri leant against it, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his heart.

Why couldn’t he be strong like his sister?

Why couldn’t he be confident and beautiful like all these women, supporting their husbands proudly?

Why couldn’t he be better than this?

A quiet sob escaped his throat, and Yuuri brought his hands up to his face to stop the tears from falling.

“Are you okay?”

Yuuri almost jumped.

He had not realised that he was not alone, that in fact, this room was already occupied. A teenage boy sat on the sofa by the floor-length windows, a phone in his hand. He had tanned skin and the same, reddish hair colour like Carla. The boy slipped from the sofa, putting his phone away.

“You’re Viktor Nikiforov’s mate, right?” He asked. “My father told me about you. I’m Leo.” He had reached Yuuri, keeping a somewhat respectful distance to him. “Did something happen? I can call our men if—”

Yuuri shook his head, rubbing his eyes and wiping the tears away.

Leo pulled out a handkerchief, holding it out to him. “It’s quite loud out there, isn’t it,” he said, surprisingly compassionate for a boy of his age. “I hate banquets. But my father always wants me to come with him.”

Yuuri looked at the handkerchief for a moment, hesitant to take it. But the boy, Leo, kept looking at him, smiling, seeming trustworthy enough.

Leo clasped his hands behind his back as Yuuri took the handkerchief from him, watching him dry his tears.

“I hate them, too,” Yuuri murmured. “I hate them more than anything else.” He folded the handkerchief carefully, running his thumb across the seams. “I’ll have this washed and sent back to you.”

But Leo merely shrugged. “Keep it. I’ve got loads.”

Yuuri nodded, not knowing what else to say. The mere fact that he was able to talk to the boy surprised him very much – but perhaps it was because Leo de la Iglesia was just that. A boy. Not a high-ranking member of the mafia, or someone eager to share the latest gossip.

Just a boy.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Leo chuckled. “You didn’t, really,” he said. “I’ve escaped from the banquet, too. But won’t your husband miss you?”

“Won’t your mother miss you?” Yuuri asked, not wanting to think about Viktor.

“Touché.”

But Leo was right. Viktor would worry. Viktor would be angry. Viktor would be ashamed of him. Viktor would hate him. Viktor would—

“You’re shaking,” Leo said suddenly, reaching out to grasp Yuuri’s hand. “Sit down, okay? I’ll get you some water.”

Yuuri didn’t even notice that he was walking, his feet merely obeying as he was pulled over to the sofa and put down there. Leo quickly rushed to the abandoned bar on the other side, searching through the fridge and returning with a bottle of water.

Yuuri barely felt the cold beverage running down his throat.

Suddenly, there was commotion coming from outside, and the door opened before Leo could reach it.

“I’ve found him!” A woman’s voice exclaimed. “Oh, thank God, he is with Leo.”

Someone had burst into the room after the woman, who Yuuri now recognised as Carla, just as he felt arms around him, a hand in his hair, lips on his forehead.

“My jewel,” Viktor breathed as he held him. “I thought I had lost you…”

He pulled away just enough to cup Yuuri’s cheeks, his blue eyes filled with such worry that Yuuri’s heart sank in an instant.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Viktor sighed and pressed another kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “Leo, thank you so much for taking care of my jewel.”

“No problem,” Leo said with a shrug. “He said he wants to go home.”

“He spoke to you?” Viktor asked in surprise, and Yuuri stiffened in his arms. That was a lie, and both Yuuri and Leo knew it, but the boy confirmed.

“Yeah, we talked for a while,” Leo lied smoothly.

Viktor sighed in relief. “I’m glad my jewel ran into you,” he said. “Carla, I think I should take my jewel back to the hotel. Such banquets are very difficult for him.”

“Of course,” Yuuri heard Carla say, and he held tighter onto Viktor out of sheer instinct. “There’s an elevator down this hall that you can use. I’ll have a car brought to the back exit. Leo?”

“Thank you,” Viktor said, waiting until both Carla and Leo had left before he pulled Yuuri into a tight embrace, as if he never wanted to let go again. “I’ll carry you, okay?” He whispered.

Yuuri managed to nod.

There was no one in sight as Viktor carried his mate through the hall to the elevator, Yuuri’s arms tightly wrapped around his neck and his face buried in his chest as his cheeks burned in shame. He had not wanted to ruin the evening for Viktor like this. He had not wanted him to worry.

All of this was his fault.

But Viktor never let go of him, not even as he climbed into the car with him, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings into his ear, a gentle, soothing hand never leaving Yuuri’s hair.

How they got back to the hotel Yuuri did not know. It was not until he felt the soft mattress of their bed that he realised they were back, and that Viktor was kneeling before him, taking off his shoes with the greatest care. First one, then the other, setting them aside before joining Yuuri on the bed and taking his hand.

He did not deserve Viktor’s tenderness, or his comfort. Not someone like him, who was such an utter failure.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor’s fingers intertwined with Yuuri’s, unwilling to let go. “I am the one who has to apologise,” he said softly. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

None of this was true, Yuuri told himself. Viktor had every right to leave him alone. Viktor was his alpha, his head, the one who decided for and over him. He, a mere omega, had no right to complain.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, more emphatically this time. “Yuuri, I don’t want you to feel bad about tonight.”

“I ruined everything,” Yuuri whispered, not even daring to look his husband in the eye. “I embarrassed you.”

“No, Yuuri, you did no such thing,” Viktor said firmly and pulled him onto his lap. His free hand came up to touch Yuuri’s cheek, with such tenderness and care that it made Yuuri’s heart ache. “I was… irresponsible. I knew you couldn’t do crowds and left you alone nonetheless. You have no idea how disappointed I am in myself. None of this is your fault. I am your alpha, and I failed to protect you.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly at the bitterness in his husband’s voice, but there was still such tenderness, such love in Viktor’s touch that he understood that none of this was because of him. That Viktor would never blame him, never hate him, never leave him, no matter how fucked up he was.

“I’m such a mess, Viktor,” Yuuri breathed, his brown eyes filled with such fear that it shook Viktor to the core. “I can’t… I can’t do what others do so easily. I want to run at the mere—”

“You don’t have to be like others, Yuuri,” Viktor interrupted him firmly and cupped his cheeks. “I want you to be _you._ My gentle, kind, gorgeous, funny, intelligent Yuuri that I love so deeply, that I love so much that it hurts.”

Yuuri stared at him.

“You… love me?”

Viktor smiled softly at that. “Yuuri,” he said, his hands moving down Yuuri’s sides to rest on his waist. “When I look at you, I know that I have made the right decisions. Every morning, when I get to wake up beside you, I know that I love you. Whenever I get to hold your hand, I know that I love you. Whenever I see your smile, and hear you laugh, I know that I will never love another person as much as I love you. Every night when I get to hold you in my arms, I know that I am the luckiest man in the world. I cannot even put into words how much I love you, and how happy I am to have you as my mate. To have you as the one who owns my heart.”

His words washed over Yuuri, all of them too much for Yuuri to comprehend, but with every word that Viktor spoke, his heart ached more and more. How could it be that a man like Viktor, a man so powerful and so perfect, a man so generous and kind, loved him so?

It was as if Viktor understood him without words, for he pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s lips and said: “You have always had my heart, Yuuri,” he whispered. “And it will forever be yours.”

Yuuri felt the tears rolling down his cheeks, their salty taste on his lips as he managed to speak. His voice was quiet, barely audible, only for his husband to hear.

“I love you, too.”

Viktor kissed his lips.

“Is there anything you want, my Yuuri?” he asked softly. “Anything at all?”

Yuuri sniffed, curling up on his husband’s lap and burying his face in his shoulder. “I think I want to go home.”

* * *

Winter had St. Petersburg in its firm grasp, covering every inch in thick layers of snow.

It had been easy to forget that it was not even spring yet whilst travelling through the Caribbean. But now that they were back, winter hit them with full force. The icy wind hit their faces as they descended the stairs of their private plane, Viktor’s arm around Yuuri’s waist to keep him warm and secure. His men, waiting at the bottom of the stairs and by the car, kept their eyes lowered. That had been Viktor’s order, upon their return to Russia.

His mate would never feel uncomfortable and unhappy again. Not as long as he could prevent it.

Yuuri looked stunning in his fur coat and the Chanel sunglasses that framed his face perfectly. The sunglasses had been Viktor’s most recent gift, and one that he was particularly proud of. After all, it made his mate look like the queen that he was.

“Are you happy to be home again?” Viktor asked once they were in the car, the screen shielding them from the driver and giving them the privacy they deserved.

“I’m looking forward to making it my home,” Yuuri said softly, taking Viktor’s hand. “I haven’t seen much of it yet. Only the bedroom, really,” he added with the most adorable blush that Viktor had ever seen.

He laughed. “Yes, indeed. But a wonderful bedroom it is, isn’t it? I can’t wait to take you back to the bed where I made you mine.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Yuuri smiled. He threw another glance at the screen separating them from the driver, then moved closer to Viktor and wrapped his arms seductively around his neck. “Very much, even,” he added in a whisper and pressed a kiss to Viktor’s lips. In an instant, Viktor reacted, his arms slipping around Yuuri’s waist and parting his lips as Yuuri’s tongue demanded entrance. “Bozhe moy…”

It was not that he was surprised – no, Yuuri had been passionate from the very beginning, just as eager to touch and kiss him as Viktor. But since they had confessed their love for each other, Yuuri had become bolder in his actions, more demanding, more confident.

And Viktor loved every second of it.

“God, Yuuri,” he breathed as Yuuri’s hand undid the first few buttons of his shirt and slipped under the piece of clothing that Viktor suddenly wished he didn’t wear. He could feel Yuuri smile into the kiss, his hand caressing Viktor’s chest ever so gently.

Yuuri would be the death of him, Viktor was sure of that. But oh, he would go into death gladly for him.

“Don’t get me wrong, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured against his lips. “I won’t fuck you here.”

Viktor groaned at those words, for Yuuri had never used words like that.

“But I want you tonight,” Yuuri whispered. “Do you want me too?”

“Yes, God, yes…” Viktor breathed into his mouth, capturing Yuuri’s lips in an equally hungry kiss. “I’ll take you apart tonight…”

Yuuri chuckled, pulling away from the kiss, and only then Viktor saw how pink his beloved’s cheeks were, and how swollen his lovely lips from their kissing. “That’s a promise, there,” Yuuri said, running a hand through Viktor’s hair.

“My love,” Viktor said with a happy sigh. “I would never dare to break a promise I have made to you.”

For the rest of their drive, they tried to behave as best as they could, although Yuuri soon found his way into Viktor’s lap where the Pakhan kissed him senseless. Their honeymoon had been wonderful, and they had bonded more than Viktor would have ever dared to imagine. But now, it was time to return home, to start their life together. And he would make sure that Yuuri was happy, no matter the cost.

The Nikiforov estate was a large manor that used to be a palace, back in the days of the Tsar. Viktor was not sure if his own family had ever been nobility, but this house seemed to have always belonged to the Nikiforovs. This was where he had been born, where his mother had died, where he had been raised by nannies, where his father had taught him, yes, where his father had died. And then, Viktor had taken his place. He had refurbished the whole manor, and once again before his wedding, to make sure everything was perfect for his mate.

Finally, he could show it to him in all its glory.

Yuuri’s eyes widened as the manor came into view. “I didn’t remember it as… so big.”

“Believe me, I will never get used to its size, either,” Viktor chuckled as the car drove up the long driveway towards the imposing stairs. A single man was standing there, a man who Yuuri recognised as the one that had led their marriage negotiations all those months ago.

“Chris is the only one to greet us today,” Viktor told Yuuri and squeezed his hand. “There won’t be any people waiting in the hall for us. You like Chris, right?”

Yuuri looked visibly relieved. “Thank you. And yes, I like him.”

“Good. You have absolutely nothing to fear from him. You must know, he is my best and oldest friend.”

“Really?”

Viktor nodded. “I would trust him with my life.”

The car came to a halt right before the stairs, and Viktor got out first, then held out his hand to help his mate.

And Yuuri, his beloved mate, emerged from the car like the queen that he was.

Never before had Viktor been so proud. And so very much in love.

“Chris!” Viktor called and waved at his friend, meeting him halfway on the stairs and pulling him into a hug. “I see the house is still standing.”

“Welcome home,” Chris said with a voice like velvet. “And yes, I’ve kept an eye on your precious estate. How was your honeymoon?”

“Absolutely perfect,” Viktor beamed, putting an arm around Yuuri. “Right, my love?”

Yuuri nodded. “It was wonderful,” he said.

“But now, my jewel is terribly tired,” Viktor said as they walked up the last few steps of the stairs and entered the large entrance all. Just as he had wanted it, the hall was empty – except for the large poodle running towards them with loud, happy barks.

“Makkachin!” Viktor laughed and knelt down before the dog could knock him over, hugging his furry friend and scratching her lovingly behind the ear. Makkachin was so excited that she could barely contain herself, jumping around and licking over Viktor’s face, immensely happy about his return. “Makkachin, stop!” Viktor laughed. “Makka! I beg you!”

He finally managed to get up again, the overexcited dog happily wagging her tail as she went to sniff Yuuri and began to lick his hand.

“Yuuri, meet Makkachin,” Viktor chuckled. “The only woman in my life.”

“Hello, Makkachin,” Yuuri cooed softly, kneeling down and giving the dog a few good cuddles.

The sight alone almost melted Viktor’s heart.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to introduce him to the staff right away,” Chris said. “But I’ve scheduled a meeting for tomorrow morning after breakfast.”

“Good,” Viktor said while his mate cuddled the dog. “For now, what we need is peace and quiet. And sleep. I forgot how long flights can be from America…” He sighed. “But thanks, Chris. Really.”

“You’re welcome,” Chris said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, the Swiss left them alone, and Viktor took Yuuri upstairs to their private apartment, with Makkachin following right behind.

This was where their new life would begin, he thought as he led Yuuri into their chambers, watching Makkachin claim the couch for herself. This was where they would be happy together, he told himself as he watched Yuuri take off his coat and leave it on a chair as he went to explore his surroundings. He touched the books on the shelves, felt the fabrics of the curtains, smelled the flowers in the vases. His explorations took him eventually to the adjacent bedroom, his hands touching the soft pillows, admiring the quality of the Egyptian cotton. And then, Yuuri let himself fall onto the mattress with a deep sigh, stretching out on the sheets. There was a smile on Yuuri’s lips, a happy, content smile that could light up the darkest night.

More Viktor did not need to see.

More Viktor would never want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're well! <3


	9. Contentment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> It's exam season and I'm studying and working a lot, so it isn't that easy for me to find time to actually sit down and write in peace. But here it is!
> 
> We are back in Phichit times! And you know what that means ;)

“V-Viktor…” Yuuri’s breath was shaking, his hands on Viktor’s chest and his thighs trembling as he moved on top of him and took what he deserved. It was unusual for them to do it like this, with Viktor on his back instead of Yuuri, the omega being the one in control. But the moment Viktor had entered their bedroom that night, Yuuri had thrown himself at him, and he had realised that his mate would not allow any dissent. Yuuri’s kisses had been hungry and demanding, his hands tearing Viktor’s clothing almost apart as he pushed him down on the bed and claimed his husband.

Viktor had been more than happy to oblige, giving his mate what he wanted.

Yuuri was beautiful above him, his skin flushed from the exertion, but it only made Yuuri even more gorgeous in Viktor’s eyes. His body was covered in sweat, the muscles in his thighs and stomach twitching ever so beautifully as he moved. Soft moans were escaping from his throat, sounds that were like music to Viktor’s ears. How did he deserve a mate as perfect as this? It was something Viktor had been wondering about many times. But all those months ago in Tokyo, he must have said the right thing. After all, Yuuri chose to marry him. Yuuri gave himself to him. Allowed him to mark him, to bond with him. And was now so very eager to mate with him, to have his child.

But there was more to their mating, too. Viktor loved Yuuri more than anything else. Yuuri was the reason he got up in the mornings, the reason he did his work. He worked and lived for him only. Yuuri was the purpose of it all.

That would never change. That much Viktor was sure of.

He groaned as he felt Yuuri clench tighter around him but Yuuri kept going, not satisfied yet, and so was Viktor. He knew that if he was not careful, he would get lost in the sensation. It was easy to forget the world when he was with Yuuri. What did the world matter, anyway? Of course, there was business, the very one that he had inherited from his father. His wealth that he used to spoil Yuuri and keep him happy did not come from nothing. No, Viktor worked hard for what they had, and he was determined to keep it that way. He worked for Yuuri, and for their future.

His thoughts drifted off, to the things waiting for him. There were reports he had to read, phone calls he still had to make, people he had to talk to and lecture about loyalty. “Those fucking phone calls…” Victor groaned in annoyance.

Above him, Yuuri stilled.

“Excuse me?”

Viktor opened his eyes. Yuuri was sitting on his lap, his chest heaving in exhaustion as he fixated his husband with a stare that sent cold shivers down Viktor’s spine.

“Huh?”

“What did you just say?” Yuuri demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Nothing, I—”

“We’re fucking and you are thinking about business?!” Yuuri shrieked.

Sensing danger, Viktor immediately sat up and reached for his mate. “No, Yuuri, I would never, I just have so much on my mind—"”

But Yuuri pushed his hand away and climbed off his lap. “Why don’t you fuck your paper shredder then?!” He snapped and slipped out of bed, naked as the day he was born and walked away to his dressing table, sitting down with an annoyed huff.

Viktor sighed heavily. “Yuuri,” he began, but his mate ignored him entirely, picking up his many creams and lotioning his hands instead. There he was again, the stubborn, proud Yuuri that appeared every now and then when he was displeased with something Viktor did. It was the side of Yuuri that Viktor found both incredibly hot and also incredibly frightening. But the last thing he wanted was to upset him.

Viktor pushed the duvet back and climbed out of bed as well, making his way over to Yuuri and hugging him from behind. “I’m sorry, my love,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Yuuri’s neck. “I didn’t mean to become distracted.”

Yuuri glared at him through the mirror, not stopping in his task of moisturising his hands.

“I just have so much on my mind these days,” Viktor admitted. “There is so much to do and I hardly know where to begin, or where the highest priority lies. I mean, you are obviously my highest priority!” He added immediately as Yuuri almost began to seethe in anger. “I mean in business.” He kissed him again, on the cheek this time, and then nuzzled Yuuri’s neck. “Can’t you forgive your stupid husband?”

Yuuri muttered something under his breath in Japanese that Viktor didn’t understand, but at least he was talking. And that was always a good sign.

There was nothing more dangerous than a Yuuri that did not talk to him.

“Let’s go back to bed, hm?” Viktor suggested gently and let his hand move from Yuuri’s shoulder down to his belly. “I’ll worship you the way you deserve.”

But Yuuri did not move from the spot. He kept looking at Viktor through the mirror, the annoyance still clear in his beautiful face.

“What is on your mind these days?” He demanded to know. “What is distracting you, Viktor?”

“Huh?”

“I want to know what it is that distracts you even in our marriage bed,” Yuuri said, his voice still hard and piercing through Viktor’s soul rather painfully, but he could hear the concern in it, too.

Yuuri was truly the perfect mate.

Viktor sighed and rested his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I’ve been having problem with the Crispinos lately,” he explained. “Specifically, with Michele Crispino. His sister is not really a problem. We had this agreement that we wanted to discuss but now Michele is going against it…” It all came out of him then, all the things he had been worrying about, all of it he poured out to Yuuri who listened quietly and kept rubbing cream into his already incredibly soft hands.

Viktor didn’t know for how long he was talking, but his Yuuri kept listening. Eventually, Viktor stopped speaking and sighed heavily into his mate’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t burden you with this,” he murmured. “I ruined the night for both of us.”

Yuuri finally put the cream aside and clasped his hands on his lap. “This Michele sounds like he listens to his sister,” he said. “Keep focusing on Sara Crispino. Michele will eventually give in. Sara will be on your side because of Mila. And Mila is part of the Bratva.”

Viktor couldn’t be happier about those words, not because of their content but because they were Yuuri’s, Yuuri’s advice only for him. Yuuri was smart, too smart for his own good, and easily able to lead the Bratva on his own if he had to.

“I will do as you say,” Viktor promised and kissed Yuuri’s cheek again. “I’m sorry for not coming to you with this sooner. I didn’t want to bother you with my problems.”

Yuuri finally turned around on his chair and gave him an annoyed look. But there was also a hint of amusement in it. “Vitya,” he said softly and touched his cheek with his hand that now smelled like roses. “You are my husband. I want you to come to me when you are worried, or when you are looking for a solution to a problem. That’s what you expect of me as well, after all.”

Viktor sighed heavily and leant into his mate’s touch. “I know you are right,” he murmured and turned his head ever so slightly to press a tender kiss to Yuuri’s palm. “I just don’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“Viktor, you are the head of the Russian mafia,” Yuuri reminded him with a small laugh. “You will always have rather peculiar problems.”

“True,” Viktor admitted and gently caressed Yuuri’s thigh. “How about… we go back to bed and I make up to you for being an idiot that doesn’t appreciate his mate the way he deserves?”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“Or…” Viktor moved a little closer to his mate, now kneeling fully before him on the carpeted floor. “I could make it up to you right here…” He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s belly, right above the curve that he loved so much. “And worship you just here… on this chair…”

Yuuri sighed heavily, closing his eyes at the gentle caresses of his husband. “So you might,” he murmured, his fingers finding their way into Viktor’s silver hair.

“So I might,” Viktor hummed against Yuuri’s belly and slipped his hand between his thighs, spreading his legs just enough to pepper the inside of his thigh with kisses. “My lovely mate… my beautiful mate…”

Yuuri smiled to himself, moaning softly as Viktor’s kisses went higher, the slight stubble on his husband’s chin and cheeks scratching the skin of his thighs so wonderfully. “O-Oh…” Yuuri gasped as Viktor’s kisses reached their destination, gripping the edges of his stool tightly as Viktor kissed him right _there_ , his tongue dancing on his most sensitive flesh. Arms came around Yuuri’s thighs and kept them apart, Viktor’s mouth hungry on Yuuri as he ate him out.

“Oh G-God…” Yuuri moaned, a hand buried in Viktor’s hair, his stomach twitching and trembling as he struggled to remain sitting upright. But Viktor had no mercy with him, smiling as he kept licking into him, Yuuri’s taste like ambrosia on his lips and tongue.

“V-Viktor…” Yuuri whimpered. “I c-can’t…”

Before Yuuri could lose his balance, Viktor pulled away, scooping his mate up into his arms to carry him back to the bed. Yuuri was breathing heavily, his body trembling all over as Viktor climbed over him and captured his lips in a breathtaking kiss. Yuuri moaned into his mouth, his legs hooking around Viktor’s hips instinctively and pulling him down in clear desire. Viktor followed his mate’s wish, entering him with a swift, single movement. Yuuri cried out blissfully, arching his back in Viktor’s arms, holding onto him. This was nothing compared to their earlier mating, but despite Yuuri being now below Viktor, he was still very much the one in charge. One word from him, and Viktor would kneel to his feet. But Yuuri had never cared much about the meaning of their positions in bed. As long as he got what he wanted, he was happy, and Viktor knew it.

“You will always be the most important thing to me,” Viktor whispered into his ear as he thrust into him, his movements sharp and fast, just the way Yuuri liked them. “It’s always you. Only you. Only you, my jewel.”

“O-Only me…” Yuuri whimpered, his nails digging into Viktor’s back. “I’m the only one you think about when you fuck me… I d-demand it…”

Viktor smiled, kissing him hard and hungry, their lips melting together in lust and passion. “Only you, Yuuri,” Viktor promised between kisses as he fucks into him, gripping Yuuri’s hips and leaving his mark on him. “It’s only you, ever only you…”

Yuuri appeared satisfied with that, his legs wrapped around Viktor’s hips even tighter than before as they chased the high of their coupling together. Finally, after what seemed like an endless dance, a lustful cry escaped Yuuri’s throat and he clenched around Viktor so incredibly hard that he pulled the alpha over the edge with him. Viktor groaned deeply into Yuuri’s neck, once more filling his mate with his seed, his orgasm shaking him so thoroughly that he couldn’t do anything else but stay on top of Yuuri as he spent himself inside him over and over again.

So much for make-up sex, he thought blissfully.

It took them both a while to calm down from the high, but when they finally did, they still remained in each other’s arms. Yuuri looked up at Viktor with such tenderness in his eyes that Viktor couldn’t help but kiss him lovingly on the lips, again, and again, and again.

“You are insatiable,” Yuuri chuckled, and Viktor knew it was true. He truly was insatiable when it came to his mate.

“I love you,” Viktor said softly, caressing his beloved’s cheek.

Yuuri’s smile softened. “I love you too. I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“You had every right to react like that,” Viktor assured him and pulled the duvet up to cover them both and keep his mate warm. “Let us sleep now. Tomorrow is a new day.”

“Tomorrow is a new day…” Yuuri agreed and yawned softly, curling up in his husband’s arms.

Viktor knew he was the happiest man in the world.

* * *

The following morning found Yuuri sitting in bed, sated and enjoying a cup of the finest Japanese tea as he watched his husband get dressed. It was indeed one of his favourite pastimes, especially when he had scratched Viktor’s back bloody the night before. He loved seeing the proof of their passion on his husband’s body.

“Remember what I said about the Crispinos, dear,” Yuuri hummed, taking another sip from his tea while Viktor got dressed. Today, his husband wore a purple shirt, and Yuuri found that the colour suited him very much. “This Michele guy will give in, eventually.”

“I’m sure you are right,” Viktor agreed and pulled up his trousers, much to Yuuri’s disappointment. But then again, his husband’s backside looked lovely in the tight trousers that Viktor had picked today.

“What are your plans for today, my darling?” Viktor asked and turned around, reaching for his cup of coffee.

Before Yuuri could reply, there was a knock on the door and the voice of an assistant whose name Yuuri kept forgetting reached them. “Sir! Please excuse the disturbance, but we just received a message from Daikichi Katsuki!”

Yuuri and Viktor looked at each other in surprise.

“Thank you,” Viktor called back and reached for his phone to check his e-mails, Yuuri keeping his eyes fixed on his husband. He hadn’t spoken to his uncle since getting married to Viktor, and had only heard through Viktor about the current affairs of the Yakuza.

“There it is,” Viktor murmured and sat down on his side of the bed, opening the e-mail. He briefly studied it, Yuuri watching him attentively as he waited for him to say something.

“Ah,” Viktor smiled. “They want to come for a visit and finish our current negotiations about the—”

“They want to come for a visit?” Yuuri repeated and quickly put his cup of tea aside, shuffling across the bed to read the e-mail over Viktor’s shoulder. There was a list, too, a list of people that his uncle Daikichi wanted to bring with him. Yuuri’s heart was beating fast in his chest as he scanned the list for names he knew. For a specific name.

His face fell. “Mari is not on the list,” he murmured and sank back onto the mattress.

Viktor’s arm came around him, and he felt his husband’s lips on his hair. “I’ll call your uncle right away when I get to the office,” he promised. “Maybe I can convince him to bring Mari along.”

“I don’t understand why she is not on the list,” Yuuri sighed. “She’s his heir.”

“I’ll ask him,” Viktor said again and kissed him once more. But Yuuri’s mood was ruined already.

It did not change when Viktor kissed him goodbye and left for the office, and it didn’t change when Phichit came in to help him get dressed for the day. He had no desire to leave the bed, and already saw himself spending the day either there or on the couch, watching tv.

But Phichit wouldn’t have any of it.

“You know what,” he said when Yuuri wouldn’t even look at him properly, “let’s go to St. Petersburg and go shopping.”

“I don’t want to,” Yuuri murmured into his pillow, but Phichit ignored him and pulled him out of bed.

An hour later, their driver dropped them off at a luxury mall in St. Petersburg, with no limit to Yuuri’s credit card and shop assistants eager to please them.

“This is the life,” Phichit sighed happily as he sat on a sofa in a boutique, a glass of champagne in his hands as he watched Yuuri try on new dresses. “We should have done this a lot sooner. This red looks good on you, by the way,” he added as Yuuri turned around on the pedestal to present his current choice.

“I like the colour, too,” Yuuri agreed, looking at his reflection in the mirror. “But I have two dresses of this cut already. Say, do you have more dresses in that shade of red but with different sleeves?” He asked the woman assisting them.

“Of course!” She assured him. “Let me check!”

She hurried off and Yuuri stepped off the pedestal, reaching for his own glass of champagne with a sigh.

“I hope Mari can come,” he said softly. “I miss her.”

“I’m sure your husband will do what he can,” Phichit said sympathetically. “Your sister would surely come immediately if she were allowed.”

“I know she would,” Yuuri murmured. “I know that my mother can’t come because it’s dangerous, still… but Mari is not an omega. I don’t understand why my uncle didn’t allow her to come already.”

Phichit sighed. “No one really understands those alphas,” he said.

“Indeed,” Yuuri murmured and took another sip of the champagne, grimacing a little at the taste. “This tastes odd…”

“Does it?” Phichit asked and took a sip from his own glass to check. “Tastes normal to me.”

Yuuri shrugged, putting the glass aside. “I’ve never been too fond of champagne anyway,” he said and looked at the shop assistant who returned with a few new dresses in the shade of red that Yuuri desired. With Phichit’s help, he took off the other dress and put on the new ones, trying on one after the other until he found a dress that satisfied him – although Phichit declared that it needed some work of the seamstress if it was supposed to fit perfectly. The shop assistant was more than happy to have helped him find a dress, and thanked them profusely as they left, the shiny bags of the boutique hanging from their arms.

“What about some lingerie next?” Phichit suggested.

Yuuri smiled a little. Usually, buying lingerie cheered him up, especially fantasising about what the new lingerie would do to his husband. After all, Viktor owned a lingerie company and had a personal passion for beautiful underwear – and he liked using Yuuri as a model. But sometimes, Yuuri liked to surprise his husband with new lingerie, and then, his husband would always go wild.

But today, he was not in the mood for any sort of underwear shopping.

“I’d like to buy some new pullovers,” he said to Phichit. “Just something simple that I can also dance in.”

“Okay,” Phichit nodded and walked up to the next map of the shopping centre. “There’s an H&M on the other side of the shopping centre, and there’s also a-“

“Your wellborn!”

Yuuri turned around, surprised to see Christophe Giacometti walking towards them. He was dressed casually, yet still very elegantly. In his hand he held a shopping bag.

Behind himself, Yuuri could hear Phichit squeak.

“Chris,” Yuuri said and put on a smile for his husband’s best friend. “Are you enjoying a free day?”

“Indeed,” Chris confirmed and came to stand before them. “One of my rare days off. How about you? Are you having a shopping day?”

“Phichit insisted,” Yuuri said, gesturing at the bag on his arm.

Phichit frowned. “Hey, it’s you who is spending money, not me.”

“But Phichit,” Chris said smoothly, “no amount of money could get you the kind of look I’d like to see you in.”

Phichit stared at him.

“Aaaand that is my cue to leave you alone,” Yuuri said. “I’ll try to find some pullovers in the shop over there, okay?”

Before Phichit could reply, Yuuri had begun to walk away, and Chris used the opportunity to shamelessly flirt with the Thai.

Yuuri chuckled to himself. He knew that Phichit loved the attention even if he claimed the opposite, and Chris was a great match for him anyway. They were both betas, had a similar background, and knew of the dangers of their world. They didn’t have to hide anything from each other.

It was the perfect match in Yuuri’s eyes.

The shop was more of a department store than a single one, with several different departments dedicated to different styles. Yuuri made his way to the more affordable section of the shop, not seeing any reason to buy cashmere pullovers or other expensive clothing that he would only wear in the ballet studio. He knew that his bodyguards were around somewhere, watching him and keeping him safe. In the beginning, it had felt strange to go out with them and have them follow him in public, but he had gotten used to them. He understood why it was necessary.

He was the Pakhan’s most precious jewel.

Even if the majority of people had no idea who he was.

Especially not in a shop like this.

Yuuri picked up a few pullovers in various colours, hanging them over his arm as he kept strolling through the shop, lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t help but think about Mari. Why was she not on the list, despite being Daikichi’s heir?

Hopefully, Viktor could convince him to bring her along.

Yuuri missed his sister terribly. She had always been his closest friend, his supporter, his protector. She knew him like no one else, and had openly told Viktor over the phone that she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him with her own hands if he ever made Yuuri unhappy, or if he hurt him.

Neither Viktor nor Yuuri had doubted her words.

Before he knew it, he had ended up in a different part of the store, finding himself surrounded by explosions of pink and blue. His feet had carried him to the baby section, the sensory overload almost too much for him. Wherever he looked, there were pink and blue clothes for children, little caps, shoes, jackets, small gloves, and so much more.

Yuuri took a deep breath, shaking his head.

Right beside him, he noticed the tiniest, most adorable pair of socks that he had ever seen. They were white, with the most delicate embroidery just where the baby’s ankles would be. The sight alone made Yuuri’s heart age, and he felt how his eyes filled with hot, angry tears. He closed his eyes.

It was not fair.

He could hear the laughter and squeals of little children, all of them here with their mothers who wanted to buy new clothes for their babies that had outgrown all others. None of these children were his own.

It was just not fair.

Before getting married, he had regarded children as the inevitable consequence of his upcoming marriage – that he would simply lie there and endure mating after mating and eventually become pregnant with Viktor’s child. And that this process would repeat itself for year after year after year until he was too old.

And then, he had fallen in love with Viktor, and had begun to yearn for a baby. For a baby with Viktor’s hair, and Viktor’s eyes, and Viktor’s smile.

But this baby just wouldn’t come, and it ate Yuuri up from the inside.

He was a failure.

A few tears rolled down his cheeks, but Yuuri quickly reached up to wipe them away. No, he wouldn’t burst into tears in public just because he had been looking at a pair of baby socks. He was too proud for that, and he didn’t want to return to Phichit and Chris with reddened eyes as proof of his weakness. Because then, Viktor would hear about it, and Viktor would worry.

That was the very last thing Yuuri wanted.

He pulled out his phone, looking at his wallpaper. A picture of Viktor with Makkachin, resting on the sofa, smiling into the camera. Yuuri knew that he was lucky to have a husband like Viktor who cared for him and loved him, no matter what. Viktor would never blame him for anything. Viktor would never abandon him.

No, Viktor would always try to make him happy.

Other omegas didn’t have it as good as he did.

Yuuri sighed, kissing the screen of his phone. He had a good life. No, a great life. And a baby wouldn’t change that. He could be happy without a baby, even if it took him a long time, or professional help.

He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on dreams that might never come true.

With that thought in mind, he went to pay for his pullovers and then went back to Phichit and Chris. They were still standing in the very same spot, but Chris was now leaning casually against a wall, a hand on Phichit’s arm.

Upon spotting Yuuri, Phichit stood up straight, a deep blush on his face.

“There you are!” He squeaked and promptly cleared his throat. “Did you find something?”

Yuuri nodded, opening the shopping bag to show his purchases. “Just something simple,” he said.

“Phichit and I were just talking about having a cup of tea and something to eat somewhere,” Chris hummed. “How about you, your wellborn?”

“Chris, don’t call me that,” Yuuri sighed. “But yes, I…” He glanced at his watch. “I think we could have something for lunch, perhaps…”

“Absolutely,” Chris said. “I know a lovely little café not too far from here. What do you think?”

“Sounds good to me,” Yuuri nodded. “What do you think, Peach?”

“I agree,” Phichit said, not taking his eyes off Chris.

Yuuri chuckled to himself.

The café Chris had been talking about was just a few streets away, small and cosy, but rather expensive anyway. Not that either of them minded. Taking their seats in the corner they ordered their drinks and food and chatted about this and that while they waited. It was clear to everyone that Phichit and Chris were incredibly attracted to each other, but Yuuri felt more like a chaperone and less like a third wheel.

He was sure that without him, the two would have snuck off to a corner to make out already.

The food arrived a few minutes later, but as the waitress placed it before them, Yuuri’s hunger disappeared at once.

“Yuuri?” Chris asked softly when he didn’t eat.

“I can’t eat this,” Yuuri murmured and swallowed thickly, staring at the tomato mozzarella sandwich he had ordered.

“Huh?” Phichit frowned.

“I can’t—” Yuuri pressed out and suppressed the rising nausea as best as he could, pushing the plate away as quickly as he could. “The smell… Phichit, please take it away.”

“Of course,” Phichit said worriedly and picked up the plate to return it to the waitress, and Chris moved a little closer to the omega to calm him as best as he could, offering him a sip from his glass of water. Phichit was back in no time, rubbing his friend’s back.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked worriedly. “Do you want to go home?”

“I just need a moment,” Yuuri murmured, taking another sip from Chris’ glass of water. The nausea seemed to disappear more with every minute that passed, and he even managed to take a bite from Phichit’s salad to have at least something in his stomach. “I don’t know where that came from all of a sudden…”

“Omegas are rather sensitive when it comes to smells,” Phichit said. “Perhaps the mozzarella wasn’t good anymore.”

“Probably,” Yuuri murmured.

Phichit ended up sharing the salad with Yuuri, and when they finally drove back home, he was already feeling much better. Makkachin greeted them with happy barks upon their return, which caused Viktor to come out of his study. He had not heard back from Daikichi yet, but Yuuri didn’t mind.

“Did you have a nice day, though?” Viktor asked once they were alone and Yuuri had put away his purchases.

Yuuri climbed into his husbands lap and hugged him, burying his face in his neck, breathing in his soothing scent.

“Yes,” he replied. “I’m… I’m happy, Viktor.”

Viktor pulled away ever so slightly, just enough so they could look at each other. He was smiling.

“I’m happy, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, why don't you check out my other stuff?
> 
> For example, my Geisha AU?  
> [A Flower of A Thousand Petals](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352098/chapters/53397607) \- check it out!


	10. Author's Note

Hello everyone,

this is not a chapter but I would like to address something that has happened.

Someone on facebook claimed to be me when asked if they had written any fics, and linked to this fic. 

Whilst I appreciate that people apparently like this story so much that they want to claim to be me (you don't want to be me, trust me), it's absolutely NOT cool to do something like this. I'm pretty pissed right now. Said person did not steal and repost this fic (which would have been even worse), but I'm mad as fuck. Just don't do this! Don't fucking claim to be me or any other person that you are not! 

I'm really sorry for this rant but I am super angry about this. 

Thankfully, Victurius & Plisetskytrash have handled this issue quickly and professionally, and I'm very thankful for that.

Also, I would like to thank you for your amazing comments after the last chapter. You guys keep me floating.

Best wishes,  
Franziska (because that is my name, and nothing else)


	11. Danseur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> first of all, I would like to thank you for all your kind responses to the author's note that I posted. You were all incredibly kind.  
> Secondly, I am glad to tell you that the person in question and I could resolve the argument. I will leave the author's note there, nonetheless, since there has been a rise in fanfiction and identity theft recently. You surely have noticed the "do not copy to another site" tags that many writers are using. The reason is that there are websites that steal our work and repost them. Some people try to sell our stories on Amazon. If anyone reading my fics is considering such a thing - which I doubt because you are all lovely - please think twice. If you want to be known for your writing, then write. Don't steal from others.
> 
> I don't make ANY money from this. I wish I could. I don't have Ko-Fi, I don't have a Patreon, nothing. I do this just for fun. So it hurts me when people steal my work or claim to be me. 
> 
> Again, the person in question and I talked, and we sorted it out. 
> 
> Now back to the story!  
> And yes... THERE IS A FORECAST FOR A MAFIA BABY!!!!!!  
> But first: back to pre-Phichit times and... enter our favourite Russian ice tiger and the prima ballerina herself!  
> And smut.

The kisses of his husband woke Yuuri the morning following their return home. Small kisses, peppered onto his bare shoulder blades, slowly moving down his spine. Viktor’s hands were on his waist, holding him in a gentle embrace as his lips caressed Yuuri’s naked skin, leaving small declarations of love wherever he touched.

Yuuri smiled into his pillow, humming in delight as he arched his back. Behind him, he could hear Viktor chuckle, and his kisses continued, wandering further down, and further, and further, and-

“Oh…” Yuuri sighed blissfully as he felt Viktor’s tongue on his sex, his tongue teasing him just the way Viktor knew he liked it. Viktor moved Yuuri just slightly, just enough to have better access to him, to worship him the way he deserved. Yuuri moaned into the pillow, happily giving in to the pleasure, and to his insatiable husband. They had made love just the night before, right before falling asleep in each other’s arms. And they had made love again in the middle of the night, Viktor claiming him hard and fast. Yuuri could still feel the alpha’s fervour, for his hips ached even now, and he was sure he would find the marks of Viktor’s hands on his hips later. But he would always wear them with pride. He was Viktor’s, and Viktor was his.

Yuuri mewled as he felt two long, slender fingers enter him, curling inside him just the way he liked it. Viktor had been able to play him like a fiddle from the very beginning, and he had only ever improved since the night of their wedding. Oh, how quickly things had changed, Yuuri thought to himself as he bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from whimpering pathetically. He had not even dared to move on his own in the beginning, just lying there and letting Viktor have his way with him.

Now, he couldn’t get enough of it.

Not enough of Viktor.

A moment later, Viktor’s fingers were gone, but Yuuri knew he would not be abandoned for long. He could feel Viktor’s hands on his hips, running up his sides soothingly, and then felt his husband enter him from behind, slowly, carefully, as if not to hurt him.

Yuuri loved him so, so much.

A gentle cry escaped Yuuri’s throat as Viktor moved inside him, in a slow, steady rhythm that didn’t overwhelm either of them. Yuuri was still sore from the night before, and anything faster or more creative would have surely hurt him. But his husband was careful, incredibly so, moving their hips together as he rested on top of Yuuri and pressed kisses to his neck.

“Good morning, my jewel,” Viktor whispered into Yuuri’s ear as he fucked him, and a hand came to rest on Yuuri’s belly, almost protectively. “I hope you can forgive me. But I just couldn’t resist.”

Yuuri’s answer was nothing but a whimper, and he blindly reached for Viktor’s hands, lacing their fingers together. To be taken like this by Viktor was still his favourite position, soothing his submissive omega nature and making him feel protected at the same time. Yuuri knew that for many omegas, there was not even another position in the marriage bed – that in many parts of the world, the best position of an omega was with the face down and legs open. Never speaking, never feeling pleasure.

But Viktor would never treat him like that.

“You are so beautiful like this, my darling,” Viktor breathed, and Yuuri could hear the exertion in his voice. “So willing. So eager to please… so devoted to your alpha…”

Yuuri mewled as Viktor’s fingers touched him _there_ , on top of everything else, and he came for the first time, knowing already in the heights of his bliss that this would not be the only wave of pleasure that would come over him during their coupling. Viktor moved a little faster, the angle of his thrusts changing ever so slightly, but it was enough to make Yuuri come a second time just minutes later, his cries muffled by the pillow he was resting on, just as Viktor comes deep inside him with a groan.

For a while, they stayed like this, Viktor resting on top of him, buried deep inside him. Neither of them felt willing to move, not wanting to part from the other. But the day was approaching, and life was waiting for them, outside their warm marriage bed. Yuuri did not want this to end. He wanted to stay there, in his nest, with his alpha, and have him claim him over and over again until his seed settled.

Eventually, Viktor rolled off him and flopped down on the mattress beside him with a heavy sigh.

“God, I could start every morning like this,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair.

Yuuri turned his head, smiling contentedly at his husband. “Sounds like a plan.”

Viktor chuckled. “So you will let me?”

“Of course.”

They kissed for a while, slow and unhurried, until Viktor’s fingers found their way into Yuuri again, pushing in his seed, not letting a single drop go to waste. Yuuri mewled at the intrusion, feeling sore and weak, but he didn’t complain.

His body was Viktor’s. What his alpha did with it was none of his business. That was what Yuuri had been taught, and what he knew was right. Viktor only wanted the best for him.

“Shhh,” Viktor whispered against his lips. “Let’s not waste any of it, shall we?”

Yuuri nodded into the kiss, keeping his legs open just enough for Viktor’s hand. His fingers reached in deep, he only noticed it just then, as if they were pushing his seed right where they want it to be. Viktor curled his fingers a little, and Yuuri mewled again, clenching and coming for a third time that morning. But it was a good sign, a proof of his trust for his alpha, and of his body’s eagerness to let his seed settle.

“Good boy,” Viktor hummed and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead as he removed his fingers slowly. Yuuri whined at their loss, but then, Viktor’s arms came around him, and the world felt fine again.

“Did you sleep well?” Viktor asked softly.

Yuuri nodded a little. “Very well,” he replied. “You?”

“Me too,” Viktor answered and kissed him again. “I fear, however, that we should get out of bed now. The world won’t stop for us.”

Yuuri sighed. “I wish it did.”

“It’s the only thing I cannot do for you, my jewel,” Viktor admitted ruefully.

Slowly, Yuuri sat up as Viktor gets out of bed, careful of his hips and sore sex. Through the curtains, sunlight was already streaming into their room, so far only touching the vase with the gorgeous flowers that Yuuri had admired the night before. Viktor walked over to the window, naked as the day he was born, and pulled them back.

Yuuri couldn’t stop staring at his backside.

“It looks like a lovely day,” Viktor said, looking out of the window into their garden. “We should take a walk with Makkachin later. She loves the garden so very much.”

“I haven’t seen the garden yet,” Yuuri replied. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Oh, it is most gorgeous in spring and summer,” Viktor said, picking up his dressing gown from the chair where he left it the night before. “Autumn is nice, too. But I have to admit that in winter, the garden looks a little sad. And it is just so cold, then!” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe the nerve of the cold season.

“You are Russian,” Yuuri remarked with a small smile. “Aren’t you used to the cold.”

“I am,” Viktor confirmed and walked back over to the bed to kiss Yuuri on the lips. “But I like the warmth of the sun best when it actually warms the ground beneath my feet.”

He then went to the door, pressing the button that would call the maid to their room. Yuuri had grown so used to having breakfast in bed that it now seemed normal, and he found that it was a great way to start the day. Nonetheless, he pushed the duvet back to go and use the bathroom, moving to the edge of the bed to stand up. Viktor looked at him, his eyes full of adoration and love, and Yuuri blushed. Especially when he stood, the swell of his belly was visible, the proof of their mating and of Viktor’s ownership of him.

 _Let a baby grow in me,_ Yuuri thought, touching his stomach.

Viktor walked back over to him again, apparently thinking the same, for he sank to his knees before Yuuri and kissed his belly tenderly.

Yuuri wanted to cry then and there.

“I want to have you again, my love,” Viktor whispered against his skin, looking up at Yuuri from where he is kneeling. “But I will wait until you have healed a little from our passion.”

Yuuri nodded, moved by his alpha’s gesture.

Viktor then let him go, and Yuuri found himself alone in the bathroom. He used the toilet, hissing a little at the stinging pain between his legs as he dried himself. In the cabinet, he found some cream, and it cooled his skin where it burnt the most. Yuuri hoped that it would be enough until they go to bed in the evening. He wanted Viktor to have him again, then, and make him see the stars.

It would be a shame if he were not ready for him, Yuuri thought.

When he came back to the bedroom, Yulia, their maid, was about to serve breakfast. She was the only person Yuuri felt not terribly nervous around. Yulia was nice and friendly, older than Viktor, probably in her late thirties. She greeted Yuuri with a small curtsy, as if the omega were not naked before her, and then, once Yuuri had slipped back under the covers, placed the tray with breakfast on the bed.

“You are a darling, Yulia,” Viktor hummed, and thankfully, he was wearing a dressing gown. “I wish to introduce the house staff to my mate after breakfast. Could you make sure they are all waiting in the drawing room in about half an hour?”

Yuuri cleared his throat.

“In one hour, then,” Viktor corrected himself.

“Of course, Sir,” Yulia said and left the room to do as Viktor asked.

Viktor sat down beside Yuuri, picking up his own cup of coffee and a copy of his preferred newspaper. “Aren’t we awfully domestic.”

“I like it,” Yuuri said, and earned a kiss on the cheek in return.

After breakfast, they got dressed separately, and Yuuri found himself overwhelmed by the sheer choice of clothing that he had. For now, he chose to wear a knitted dress that hugs his belly nicely, and a pair of warm tights. The shoes were flat, like most, for Yuuri knew that Viktor did not like it when he wore heels, out of fear that he might trip and hurt himself.

Viktor came back ten minutes later, dressed in dark jeans and a white shirt, making him look like a model. “You look gorgeous,” he said to Yuuri and kissed him on the lips. “Look at that adorable little belly of yours.”

Yuuri blushed. “I hope it will grow,” he said, and Viktor’s eyes began to sparkle.

“So do I”, he said. “Now, are you ready to meet the house staff?”

Yuuri tensed up on the spot, his eyes flickering towards the door.

“You don’t have to say a word,” Viktor promised him, taking his hands. “If you don’t like someone, we can fire them. They will do as you say. And they are only here to serve you. Okay?”

Yuuri managed a small nod. He knew he had to start being brave, even if he didn’t feel like it.

For Viktor’s sake.

“These people are only there to fulfil your every wish, always remember that,” Viktor said. “They do not even deserve to utter your name. You stand above them.”

Viktor said it with such confidence that Yuuri wondered if it was true.

Nonetheless, he held onto Viktor’s arm rather firmly as they made their way to the drawing room, where Yulia had assembled the staff of the house. All servants and maids, about twenty people in total, were standing there in their working clothes, their gazes thankfully lowered.

“Good morning, everyone,” Viktor greeted them. “I have called you here to introduce you to my mate, whom you will serve from now on. You will address him with ‘Your wellborn’, and refer to him as ‘His wellborn’ when you speak of him. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they replied all at once, and Yuuri shivered at the sheer power that his husband had.

“You will not speak to him unless you are being spoken to. You will not look at him unless he allows it. You will not touch him unless it is required. You will do your work diligently and to the highest standard. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” they replied again, not a single one of them standing out of line.

Yuuri wondered how much they are being paid to show such loyalty.

“Yulia is the head of the staff, my jewel,” Viktor said, his voice suddenly turning gentle and tender again as he spoke to his mate. “She is the exception to these rules, yes? When you have questions, go to her.”

Yuuri managed to nod, glancing at the woman on the other side of the row of people. She seemed kind.

“Good.” Viktor kissed him on the lips, not caring about the other people in the room.

That was how much power he had.

“Now I shall show you the house, darling,” Viktor said and put his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back. “Don’t worry, there are no other people around, and if there are, they won’t look at you. I forbade it.”

* * *

Yuuri realised that the Nikiforov manor was not just big.

It was so huge that he was sure that he would get lost without Viktor at his side. There were so many hallways and rooms and stairs that he was sure that the place had been initially designed to be a maze. But Viktor seemed to find his way with ease, leading Yuuri up and down many stairs and showing him everything there was to see: the dining hall and ball room where they had celebrated their wedding were part of the tour, of course. Now in broad daylight, the rooms seemed even more magnificent to Yuuri, reminding him of the palace of Versailles of which he had only ever seen pictures.

When he told Viktor, his husband kissed him, and promised him to take him to France in summer.

Next, Viktor showed Yuuri his study. It was a surprisingly modern room, with conference rooms attached to it.

“Of course, you may come and disturb me here at any time,” Viktor assured his mate. “No door in this house is locked for you, ever.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said softly. “But I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

Viktor sighed dramatically and took Yuuri’s hands. “Darling, you may interrupt my at any time. Nothing is ever more important than you. Yes?” He pressed another kiss to his lips. “Now come. There is something else I would like to show you.”

They went back to the entrance hall, and Yuuri was sure they would go to the other wing again. But Viktor took him upstairs, where they had come from, and down a long hallway. Yuuri realised they were on the other side of his private rooms, judging by the garden view the large windows offered him.

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asked, looking up at his husband.

Viktor smiled knowingly. “That’s a surprise.”

What kind of surprise it was Yuuri found out a minute later – it was one of the kind that had him cover his eyes with his hands.

“Do I have to?” He asked Viktor, but his husband only laughed.

“Yes, Yuuri, for me,” he said, putting his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders as he stood behind him. “I will guide you.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said and closed eyes, covering them with his hands. With Viktor’s hands on his shoulders he began to walk again, his husband right behind him. Viktor was taking him further down the hallway, around another corner, and then opened a door, leading him into what seemed to be another room. The floor felt different there under Yuuri’s feet, and the room smelled different, too. Like a new room, just built, and freshly painted.

“Now open your eyes, darling,” Viktor hummed and kissed his temple.

Yuuri lowered his hands and opened his eyes.

His knees almost gave in.

They were standing in a ballet studio – in the most gorgeous ballet studio Yuuri had ever seen. One wall was lined with mirrors and a barre, the other walls ornamented with paintings and pictures of famous dancers. A large music system was built into the wall.

And there, on the other side of the room, right beside the barre, stood the former prima ballerina of the Bolshoi, Lilia Baranovskaya.

“Aunt Lilia, meet my mate, Yuuri,” Viktor grinned whilst Yuuri was stunned into silence.

Lilia walked up to them, studying her nephew from head to toe. “Tuck your shirt in, Viktor,” she said and came to stand before them. “Show some respect when you dress.”

Viktor laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Yuuri, my love, this is my dear aunt Lilia.”

“N-Nice to meet you,” Yuuri managed to say, feeling very small under the woman’s gaze. “I’m sorry, I’m just so overwhelmed to meet you.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Yuuri. My nephew here told me you are a danseur?” Lilia asked expectantly, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.

Yuuri blushed. “N-Not really,” he murmured. “I had some lessons but I’m not very good, I think.”

“Nonsense,” Lilia declared, looking him up and down. “Your grace, even when you stand, is remarkable. You have everything that my nephew is lacking. It will be a pleasure to teach you.”

Yuuri stared at her with wide eyes.

“Surprise!” Viktor laughed and kissed his cheek. “Lilia will teach you ballet!”

“You-“

“My cottage is twenty minutes away from here,” Lilia said, ignoring her overexcited nephew entirely. “I will come here every day and teach you. Exercise and staying healthy are of utter importance. Especially when one tries to have a child.” She glanced down at Yuuri’s belly, at which Yuuri blushed.

“I don’t know if I can do every day…” Yuuri said quietly, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “I’m not very good…”

“We won’t turn you into a prima ballerina, that is clear,” Lilia said. “But I will give you what you need to enhance the grace you already have. Now, will you show me what you can?”

And with that, she walked away to the music system on the other side of the room.

Yuuri stared at her back for a moment.

“What are you waiting for, Yuuri?” She called.

Yuuri immediately took off his shoes and stumbled towards the barre. Viktor sat down on the sofa in the corner, watching as Lilia and Yuuri got into position.

Yuuri couldn’t believe it. Here he was, in his very own ballet studio, with his idol teaching him. Lilia Baranovskaya herself. She was both beauty and grace, the epitome of a dancer’s perfection. Everything she did was flawless, and Yuuri couldn’t help but stare at her. She was absolutely deserving of the title of ‘legend’.

“Good,” she said as Yuuri lifted his leg, immediately feeling that he was out of shape, but her praise meant the world to him. “You have a good technique. Who taught you?”

Yuuri looked up at her. “Minako Okukawa, Madame.”

“Minako Okukawa?” Lilia repeated and raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. “She is legendary. You were very lucky. But yes, I can see her signature on you. The leg higher, higher, I say!”

They continued like this for a while, trying out several different positions and figures until Lilia was satisfied, and Viktor applauded happily as they finally walked away from the barre.

“Yuuri! You were wonderful!” He cried and pulled his mate into his arms. “Such a talented dancer!”

“He really is,” Lilia said. “It will be a pleasure for me to have him as my student. Yura was rather disappointing recently.”

Yuuri bowed to the woman. “Thank you, Madame, for teaching me.”

“Oh, call me Lilia, please,” she said softly. Then, she looked at Viktor, fixating him with her stare. “I expect you to take the very best care of the jewel that you have. He is most precious. Make sure he is happy and safe. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Do you want to get a clip around the ear?”

“No, Aunt Lilia.”

Lilia gave him another warning glance before she looked at Yuuri again, her eyes warm this time.

“I have to go home now, but we will see each other on Monday. Use the weekend to think about the pieces you would like to learn.”

“I will,” Yuuri said with a smile. “Thank you. Really.”

And with that, Lilia picked up her bag and walked out of the room, her heels clicking on the marble floor of the hallway.

Yuuri began to squeal and buried his face in Viktor’s shirt. “I cannot believe I danced with Lilia Baranovskaya!!!” He exclaimed and looked up, beaming at his husband. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He kissed Viktor over and over again, throwing his arms around his neck. “You… you built a ballet studio just for me?”

“Of course I did,” Viktor said, kissing him back. “You told me how much you liked ballet. And that night, I called Chris and had him renovate this room. It used to be my father’s tennis room. Do you like it?”

“Viktor, I love it,” Yuuri said and kissed him again. “I cannot… I cannot thank you enough.” He would never be able to do something grand like this for his husband.

But Viktor just cupped his cheeks. “Just let me watch you dance, and see you smile while you do it,” he said. “Your happiness is all I need.”

Yuuri began to cry then and there.

* * *

And just like that, his new life in Russia had begun.

Every morning, he would wake in Viktor’s arms, his husband kissing him awake and making love to him until he cried out in ecstasy. They would have breakfast in bed together until their ways had to part, Viktor leaving for his work and Yuuri getting ready for his ballet sessions with Lilia. She came to him every day, only on the weekends he rested, and Yuuri was looking forward to every single hour he could spend in his ballet studio.

After his lessons, he would go back to his rooms, and find himself alone. Not that he minded – he knew that Viktor was busy and couldn’t spend the whole day with him. If he wanted, he could go and visit Viktor. But Yuuri did not dare to leave his rooms on his own yet, afraid of getting lost. And he was afraid of running into strangers in this huge house that was now his home.

And so, he stayed in his rooms, trying to get used to the fact that he now had servants to fulfil his every whim. But the servants scared him, and whenever he needed something, he called for Yulia.

It was one week after their return to Russia that he walked into his living room after a ballet session and heard someone calling for Viktor.

Or rather; screaming.

“VIKTOR! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

It was the voice of a boy or young man, one that Yuuri had never heard before, but he had an idea who it could be. Hesitantly, he left his room and walked down the hallway to the massive stairs that led down to the entrance hall.

There, Yuuri found a teenage boy standing in the middle of the entrance hall, with muddy shoes on the expensive marble floor, and with the grumpiest expression that Yuuri had ever seen. He was dressed almost completely in black except for the tiger print of his shirt.

Everything about him declared that he was a young alpha, and incredibly confused about it.

“VIKTOR!” The teenager yelled again, looking around and glaring at every single one of Viktor’s men. And then, the boy looked up, spotting Yuuri on top of the stairs.

“Yura!” Viktor entered the hall rather cheerfully, approaching the teenager and ruffling his blonde hair. “Why are you screaming like that?”

“Because you don’t hear me, old man!” The teenager barked, and Yuuri realised that this was Viktor’s half-brother, Yuri Plisetsky. “I walked the whole fucking way from the station!”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were coming today!” Viktor said in surprise.

“I fucking told you!”

“Ah, well, at least you had a nice walk,” Viktor laughed. Then, he spotted his mate on top of the stairs. “Ah! My jewel! You surely heard my dear brother already. Come! Let me introduce him to you!”

Yuuri took a deep breath and walked down the stairs, taking the hand Viktor was offering him once he was at the bottom of the stairs. Viktor pulled him into his arms and kissed his hair.

“Darling, this is my brother, Yuri. Yura, this is my mate and the love of my life, Yuuri.”

Yuri stared at the omega for a moment in utter disbelief before looking at Viktor.

“Wow. This is sick, even for you,” he spat. “Your mate has my name?!”

Viktor laughed. “No, no, of course not! You see, his name is Yuuri. Yuuuuri. And it is written differently. But you are right, that might be confusing…” He frowned, lost in thought for a moment. “Ah! I know! We’ll just call you Yurio from now on!”

“That’s not my fucking name!” Yuri shouted, but Viktor only laughed.

“Ah, puberty is truly hard on you, Yurio,” he chuckled. “Anyway, now that you are here, I hope the two of you will get along! Darling, Yurio is spending his winter holidays with us. So he will stay here for two weeks. I hope you don’t mind?”

Yuuri shook his head, not sure what to say – or if he should say anything at all.

Yuri snorted. “As if I wanted to hang out with the omega bitch you fuck.”

Within the blink of an eye, Viktor had let go of Yuuri and had pushed his brother against the wall, lifting him by the collar, their noses almost touching. Yuuri let out a shocked whimper at the sight. Never before had he seen his husband so… _feral_.

“Now listen to me, you little shit,” Viktor hissed. “Yuuri is my mate, and I love him more than my life. You either respect him, or you can fuck off and never return. Your choice.”

He let go of his brother as quickly as he had grabbed him, stepping away from the wall.

Yuri stared at his brother, his eyes flickering at Yuuri for a moment. Then, he grabbed his bag and walked past them to the guest wing without another word.

Viktor sighed heavily and returned to Yuuri’s side, pulling him into his arms. “I’m so sorry you had to see this, my jewel,” he said, kissing Yuuri’s forehead. “But I ask you to forgive him. He just presented as an alpha and he does not know how to deal with all the emotions. He does not mean it, but needs to be put back into place every now and then.”

Yuuri was amazed at the sudden change in his husband, from dangerous to gentle and loving within seconds, all just for him.

“I’m sure we’ll get along sooner or later,” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor smiled. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said and kissed him tenderly. “I’m terribly sorry, my jewel, but I have to go back to the office now. I’ll see you for dinner?”

Yuuri nodded. It was at least five more hours until dinner, but he would be able to make it on his own. Maybe befriend the young alpha, even if the boy scared him.

“Good.” Viktor kissed him again, a little firmer and longer this time. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Yuuri whispered, and then let go of his husband, hesitantly and unwilling, but he knew he had to.

Yuuri went back upstairs and showered, putting on fresh clothes. Afterwards, he made his way downstairs again and into the guest wing, wondering if he would have a hard time finding the boy’s room in this large house. But he could hear the loud music already in the entrance hall, and just had to follow the noise. His knocks were not answered, so he simply entered.

Yuri was lying on the bed with his face down, the music so loud that he didn’t hear a single thing. His bag he had abandoned on the floor.

Yuuri approached the bed slowly and touched the boy’s shoulder.

Yuri’s head shot up, green eyes glaring into brown ones.

“What the fuck do you want?” He snapped.

Yuuri forced himself to stay calm. He was the omega of the house here. Viktor’s mate. The one in charge.

“I have video games,” Yuuri said. “And a battle mode I want to try.”

Yuri stared at him for a long moment, and Yuuri was sure that the teenager would yell again and throw him out of his room.

Yuri sat up and jumped off the bed, turning off the music. “Your games better be good,” he warned and marched out of the room.

Yuuri, surprised about his sudden success, followed him, smiling to himself.

All teenagers were the same.


	12. Blessing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL WELL WELL I WONDER WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN THIS CHAPTER WHAT COULD IT POSSIBLY BE

Yuuri had been restless for days.

It had started on the day Viktor had received the news that Yuuri’s uncle would visit, and he had felt on edge ever since. Not that he was nervous about meeting his family’s branch of the Yakuza – at least, that was what he had told himself at first. But he had to admit that indeed, he was nervous. He had lived such a sheltered life, had rarely ever interacted with the ‘family business’. This would be the first time he would take his place at Viktor’s side in front of people that actually knew him. It was one thing to stand at Viktor’s side and ignore JJ Leroy – having to be the perfect omega in front of his uncle’s eyes was something entirely different.

Some relief had come to him the day after their trip to St. Petersburg, when Mari had called him directly. Yuuri had been overjoyed to hear from her, knowing how busy she was with her duties – and with university, on top of that. Yuuri had always envied her for this opportunity to study, knowing very well that he, as an omega without a high school diploma, would never be admitted to university. No money in the world would change that, and Yuuri didn’t want to buy such a thing.

It was enough for him to have private tutor to teach him the things he wanted to know.

But then again, Mari had always been the luckier one of the two.

Not just because she was an alpha.

But Mari would come to Russia! A day or two after the others, but she would come. She and their uncle always travelled separately, in case one of them got murdered – a thought that Yuuri always pushed aside. But Mari would come, and he would get to see her again, and that was enough for him.

Nonetheless, it did very little to ease his restlessness.

“Your legwork is sloppy!” Lilia barked through the ballet studio, making Yuuri almost jump. “What is that supposed to be? This is not a circus! Back into position!”

Yuuri hurried to do as he was told, focusing on his task again. Not even his beloved ballet lessons managed to distract him these days.

“What’s wrong with you?” Yuri asked from behind him where he leant against the barre. “You’re weird these days.”

“Yuri Plisetsky!” Lilia called, her eyes narrowing. “Less chatter, more posture!”

Yuri rolled his eyes and got back into position behind Yuuri. The omega was grateful for the young alpha’s company, although it had come as a surprise. But Viktor had told Yuuri that his brother liked to escape the boarding school on the weekends to spend time away from St. Petersburg.

As long as Nikolai knew where the boy was, he was fine with it.

“Once more, from the beginning,” Lilia said, clapping her hands. “Un, deux, trois!”

But no matter how hard Yuuri tried to focus, he failed terribly. After the fourth failed attempt of doing what he usually managed to do so easily he let go of the barre, pressing his hands to his sides and shaking his head, taking deep, even breaths.

“Oi, Katsudon,” Yuri said, stopping as well and taking him by the warm. “You okay?”

Lilia stopped the music with the remote and walked over to them, touching Yuuri’s shoulder lightly. “Are you well?”

Yuuri exhaled deeply. “I… I just didn’t sleep well last night,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes. And that was not even a lie. He had not slept much, and had not even been very enthusiastic during his and Viktor’s lovemaking. His husband had noticed that, of course, and had stopped right in the middle, despite Yuuri’s reassurances that he was fine and that Viktor could continue. They had spent the evening cuddling instead, listening to a recording of Yuuri’s favourite opera.

He truly couldn’t have a better alpha to love him.

“One does not dance when one does not feel well,” Lilia said. “Go and rest. We will continue in a few days when you feel better.”

Yuuri wanted to protest, but one sharp look from Lilia was enough to let him know that he was outnumbered. And so, he nodded, thanking Lilia for her time as he made his way out of the ballet studio to go back to his rooms. Yuri followed him, and Yuuri could feel the teenager’s eyes on his back.

“You look like shit,” he said. “Are you so nervous because of your family coming?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri murmured. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Yuri said, glancing at the frozen windows to their right.

They arrived back at Yuuri’s rooms, the guards at his doors glancing up only briefly as they approached. One of them was new, a young man with short stature and a stoic expression, but Yuuri had picked him personally. Most of his guards were older, even older than Viktor, but he had wanted someone younger around him for a change. His name was Otabek, and he was friendly enough, despite the rather dark aura surrounding him. Yuuri had even spoken to him briefly.

Everyone knew that this was a great sign of trust.

“Oi, Beka,” Yuri said to him. “When are you done here?”

Otabek opened his mouth, but Yuuri was faster. “He is now,” he said. “I’ll lie down for a bit.”

Without waiting for an answer, he entered his apartment and shut the door behind him. Not that he did not like Yuri’s company. But he felt not ready for further company, and wanted nothing more but to rest.

Perhaps he was just tired and nervous and developing a cold on top of that.

Yes. That it had to be.

Yuuri was woken by Viktor in time for dinner, his husband’s face worried above him as he opened his eyes. But Yuuri put on a brave face, despite feeling terrible, and sat down with his husband to eat.

Any other day, he would have enjoyed their meal; soup and light salad with some chicken. But Yuuri merely pushed the food on his plate around, listening to his husband’s stories.

“Yuuri?”

A hand came to rest on top of his own, gentle, tender, lovingly.

“Yuuri, my darling,” Viktor said softly, touching Yuuri’s cheek ever so lightly. “What is it?”

Yuuri sighed, putting down his fork.

“It’s nothing,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling so well.”

Viktor squeezed his hand. “Are you nervous because of tomorrow?”

Yuuri looked down at their joined hands. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve never… never been anything to them. That makes me nervous.”

Viktor got up and picked up his chair, putting it down right next to Yuuri to pull him into his arms and kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid of tomorrow, my jewel,” he said softly. “They won’t dare to treat you badly. I won’t allow it.”

Yuuri smiled lightly as Viktor kissed him. “They never treated me badly, Viktor,” he told him. “My uncle was never unkind to me. I… I think he never really was interested in me. We exchanged perhaps about a hundred words in total. I’m not afraid of him. I’m just…” He looked down at his lap, where Viktor’s hand rested on his thigh. “I don’t know if I can be the perfect mate you deserve.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor looked at him in bewilderment. “Of course you are perfect! You—”

“You don’t understand what I mean,” Yuuri interrupted him softly. “It’s one thing to be at your side when you have other guests, like the Leroys or the Crispinos. But these people… they are my people. My father’s family.”

Yuuri was not sure if Viktor truly understood, but he was pulled onto his husband’s lap, and held there, like a child, almost, but with the intimacy that was only shared between lovers.

“Yuuri, you will be absolutely wonderful,” Viktor whispered into his ear and kissed his temple. “You have only ever made me proud. And nothing you do could ever make me love you less. I’ll be at your side tomorrow, at all times, and we will be strong together.”

Yuuri nodded, not believing it himself, but he knew that if he only pretended to be strong, he could do it. That had been his strategy in the very beginning, in the early stages of their marriage, and he could surely do it again.

“And besides,” Viktor said, “Mari is coming very soon, isn’t she? I’m so looking forward to seeing her again. I don’t think we had a good start at the ball in Tokyo…”

At that, Yuuri had to laugh, remembering his sister’s comments and the sour expression on her face upon seeing Viktor for the first time. She had only tried to protect her brother, of course, and Viktor had never thought ill of her for it. But Yuuri wanted the people he loved the most to get along.

That was only natural, was it not?

“She’ll love you,” Yuuri told him. “Just like I love you.”

Viktor smiled. “And I love you.”

They exchanged a tender, loving kiss, and stayed like this in each other’s arms for a little while.

“I don’t think I can eat something tonight,” Yuuri admitted after a while. “I think I should go to bed.”

Viktor nodded, kissing his temple. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I know you still have things to prepare for tomorrow,” Yuuri said, running his hands though the silver locks he loved so much. “Just come to bed when you are done.”

“Okay,” Viktor said and kissed him once more.

To part from Viktor like this felt strange, for they usually went to bed together, but Yuuri did not mind. It was rather calming to have the bedroom to himself at this hour of the day, with only Phichit there to help him get ready for bed. It was their firm ritual, a brief chat about this and that before going to sleep.

Phichit helped him into his pyjamas, a light set that felt soft to the skin and was not too restricting. It was as if Phichit had read his mind.

“You don’t look very well,” Phichit commented as he combed Yuuri’s hair for him, the procedure calming for the omega, and firm part of their evening ritual.

Yuuri avoided looking at himself in the mirror, knowing he would only find a pale face in it. “I’m coming down with something, I believe,” he said, playing absentmindedly with the sleeve of his shirt. “That, and my nervousness regarding tomorrow.”

Phichit squeezed his shoulders. “You will do great, Yuuri,” he assured him. “Viktor will be there, and Chris, and I’ll be there, too. You won’t be alone. Just support your husband the way you always do. Believe me, you will be fine.”

Yuuri smiled lightly at that. “I wish I could have your confidence,” he said. “I still wonder what Viktor sees in me.”

Phichit put the hairbrush down and hugged Yuuri from behind. “He sees what I see, and so much more,” he said. “You’re amazing, Yuuri. One of the best people that I know. Never forget that.”

He pecked Yuuri’s cheek in a friendly manner before letting go again. “Now off to bed with you, patient Katsuki.”

Yuuri chuckled and rose, hugging his friend once more. “Thank you, Peach,” he said. “Have a good night.”

“Oh, it’ll definitely be good,” Phichit laughed. “The King and the Skater: The Documentary!”

Yuuri rolled his eyes.

* * *

Viktor joined him at some point, Yuuri already half asleep as he felt his husband’s arms around him and a kiss pressed to his neck. That night, he managed to get at least some sleep, but the following morning, he felt worse than ever before.

Yuuri felt terribly sick, the nervousness of their event tonight threatening to overwhelm him.

But Viktor was in a good mood, in a terribly good mood, even, humming to himself as he got dressed for the day. Yuuri watched him from the bed, the tray with breakfast beside him, barely touched.

Why could he not be as confident as his husband?

“The delegation will arrive around four in the afternoon,” Viktor said as he buttoned his shirt, one of the white ones that Yuuri liked to see on him so very much, including the golden cufflinks that Yuuri had given him for his birthday in December. “We will do business first, and meet for dinner at seven. You have the entire day to yourself, darling.”

Yuuri nodded. “So I will be ready for dinner just before seven,” he said. “Will you come and collect me?”

“Of course,” Viktor said. He walked around the bed and bent down to kiss Yuuri on the lips. “I’ll be here at ten minutes to seven, my jewel. I can’t wait to see what you will wear tonight.”

Yuuri smiled softly. “A kimono, of course,” he said. “The one my mother gave me.”

“Then I know you will be stunning.” Viktor cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, pulling back just as Phichit came in. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Yuuri nodded, watching his husband leave.

“Well, that’s what I call a good-morning kiss,” Phichit chuckled as the door fell shut. “And I-“

But Yuuri had pushed the duvet back, jumping out of bed with his hand pressed against his mouth as he ran to the bathroom, barely hearing Phichit’s calls of distress as he dropped to his knees before the toilet, just in time as he lost the battle against his body and lost the contents of his stomach.

“Yuuri!” Phichit breathed as he fell to his knees beside him and wrapped his arms around him, holding the omega as he retched. “I’m here, Yuuri, just let it out…”

There was little else that Yuuri could do, coughing and gasping for air when it finally stopped. He was shaking like a leaf, his body trembling from the sudden rush of adrenaline, feeling hot and cold at the same time.

Phichit flushed the toilet for him, carefully pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get you back to bed, okay?” The Thai said softly, putting his arms around Yuuri to hold him upright. “I’ll bring you something to cleanse your mouth in a moment.”

Yuuri did not know how he managed to get back to the bed, his mouth tasting terribly from what had just happened. Phichit left him for only a moment, returning with a glass of water a few seconds later.

“Here,” Phichit said softly, helping Yuuri to sit up a little and bringing the glass to his lips. “Oh my… it seems you’re really coming down with something.”

Yuuri gratefully accepted the water, drinking it in small sips. It helped to get rid of the terrible taste in his mouth, but he did not feel better in the slightest, as one usually did after throwing up. If anything, he felt weaker than before.

“You should stay in bed,” Phichit said. “I’ll tell your husband that-“

“No,” Yuuri groaned, shaking his head. “I can’t leave him alone tonight…”

“Yuuri, you are ill, you should-“

“Phichit, don’t tell him!” Yuuri snapped, sounding harsher than he had intended, and he immediately felt sorry for it. “I… I need to support him, Phichit. I’ll be fine.”

Phichit was looking at him for a long moment, clearly not happy with Yuuri’s decision. Yuuri understood why. But he could not become sick, not now. Not today.

“Fine,” Phichit said. “But I want you to rest today. No dancing, no running around. You will rest until it’s time to get ready for the dinner.”

“Okay,” Yuuri murmured, drinking more from the water to get rid of the truly horrible taste in his mouth. He had not even had so much in his stomach, but he felt as if a rock was sitting heavily inside him and just wouldn’t come out.

With Phichit’s help, he lay down in bed again and pulled the duvet up to his chin. His friend then opened a window to let in some fresh air, and Yuuri hoped it would ease the nausea a little. He had rarely ever been sick, not even at home or as a child. This was not what he knew of his body, and he wondered what he had done to be punished with the stomach flu now.

“Try to sleep, okay?” Phichit said, patting his arm. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Yuuri nodded, opening his eyes once more to look at his friend. “Thank you, Peach.”

Phichit smiled. “No problem, really.”

* * *

The Pakhan himself had no idea of what was happening on the other side of the house.

With Chris at his side he strode through the entrance hall and into the grand dining room where the staff was already busy preparing everything for tonight. Chris had been responsible for both design and theme, and Viktor had to admit that the Swiss had outdone himself. For the Japanese delegation, he had chosen a theme that combined both of their culture’s aesthetics, and Viktor was sure the evening would be a complete success.

How could it possibly fail, with Yuuri at his side?

“This looks perfect, Chris,” Viktor said to his friend. “You have truly outdone yourself. I owe you a lot.”

Chris made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “It’s nothing. When will the Japanese arrive?”

“Around noon,” Viktor said, glancing at his watch. “So in roughly thirty minutes.”

“Is your mate excited?”

“Nervous, above everything else,” Viktor sighed. “He is terribly worried about not being good enough.”

“Still?” Chris asked in surprised, raising a perfect eyebrow.

“It’s not something you can get out of him so very quickly, it seems,” Viktor said. “He does not believe me when I tell him that he’s flawless. Perfect. Stunning. Beyond compare.”

“You sound like a lovesick puppy,” Chris remarked, just as Makkachin came in with a wagging tail and sparkling eyes.

Viktor knelt down to ruffle her fur. “I’m just stating the truth, Chris,” he said. “Is Phichit not perfect in your eyes, too?”

Chris blushed ever so lightly. “Phichit and I are not together,” he said.

“Which is a shame, really,” Viktor said, rising again, much to Makkachin’s disappointment as she wanted more cuddles. “He would be good for you.”

“I absolutely agree,” Chris sighed wistfully. “But I just don’t know how to approach him. He is immune to my usual charms.”

Viktor gave him a look. “He’s not immune. He just doesn’t know how to deal with them. Anyway…” He glanced at his watch again. “I should—”

They were interrupted by one of Viktor’s men, who told them that the cars of the Katsuki delegation had just passed the gates.

The men exchanged a surprised look.

“Seems like they are early,” Viktor said and straightened his shoulders, adjusting his jacket. “God. I’m nervous. As if I were about to meet the in-laws for the first time.”

Chris patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m right behind you. And Yuuri will be at your side tonight.”

Viktor nodded, taking a deep breath. This was true, was it not? He was not alone. He had his best friend at his side, and his mate, too. They were giving him strength and support, and they believed in him. They never doubted him for a second, never doubted his position as the Pakhan.

There would have been so many better men for this position, he thought, not for the first time in his life. But for some reason, destiny had given it to him. And now, he had to make the best of it.

With Chris at his side he made his way to the grand entrance hall, their footsteps echoing on the spotless marble floor as they approached the doors. From outside, they could already hear the cars of the Katsuki delegation, car doors being opened and falling shut again, and footsteps on the gravel.

It was time to put on the Pakhan’s face.

The first man that Viktor saw was Yuuri’s uncle, Katsuki Daikichi, followed by his confidantes. He remembered the man well, the calm face with the long scar on the cheek about whose history Viktor had always wondered. Katsuki was probably the most dangerous man in Japan, and it was wise not to cross him, that much Viktor knew. But this man had also kept a promise to his late brother, and had been the one to leave all decisions concerning Yuuri to his mother. For that alone Viktor already respected him to a certain degree.

“Katsuki-san,” Viktor said with the perfect smile of the Pakhan and bowed to the other man in respect before offering him a handshake. “Welcome to Russia.”

“Nikiforov-san,” Katsuki said, shaking his hand in return. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“You are welcome. How was the journey?”

“It was good, thank you.” Katsuki then greeted Chris, whom he had met for the marriage negotiations already three years ago. He then looked around, as if searching for someone. “I thought I would see my nephew upon arrival.”

“My mate will join us tonight for the banquet,” Viktor said.

“I understand,” Katsuki said with a nod. “You keep your omega away from business. That is very sensible. They do not understand it as we do anyway.”

Viktor did not comment on that, although he was fairly sure that his mate was more intelligent than most of his men. But this was how omega were treated in Japanese society even today, and what most people in the world of crime thought of them.

It was better not to start a fight over this.

“I don’t think my jewel has any interest in the business anyway,” Viktor lied smoothly. “Please, let us go to my study and have a drink. You must be terribly exhausted from the long trip.”

Katsuki and three of his men followed Viktor and Chris upstairs to his study, leaving the rest of the delegation behind. Their conversations were not for everyone’s ears, and Viktor knew that if things went smoothly now, he would once more be able to call himself a friend of the Yakuza.

Inside his study, they took their seats on the sofas by the window, their bodyguards standing close behind them as they talked. This was as intimate as a conversation between business partners could be, even if they were never truly alone. But Viktor knew Katsuki, knew how the man thought, and how to impress and even guide him in conversation. They had similar views and shared many interests in regards to business. They had the same friends, and shared the same enemies.

And then, there was Yuuri, of course.

When business had been done, Viktor offered the man one of the finest cigars that he owned, including a glass of the most expensive whiskey to celebrate their successful negotiations. The actual celebrations would take place in the evening, with the banquet, but it was also important to build at least some sort of personal relationship.

Cigars and alcohol were welcome helpers in that regard.

“I must say,” Katsuki said as they were finally truly alone, “I was looking forward to coming to Russia, Nikiforov-san.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Viktor said, sipping the whiskey. “May I ask what it is about Russia that fascinates you so? It surely can’t be our terribly cold winters.”

Katsuki chuckled. “No, not that. But I do enjoy Russian vodka. And you see, one of my mistresses is Russian. A beautiful beta, really. If she were an omega, I would consider marrying her to produce an heir. But to be honest, my friend, I am simply too busy for such an endeavour. And thanks to my most honourable brother, God bless his soul, I already have an heir in his daughter.”

“I’m looking forward to welcoming her,” Viktor said. “And so does my mate. He has missed his sister terribly.”

“Omega are quite emotional, aren’t they,” Katsuki commented and took a long, thoughtful drag from the cigar. “How is my nephew doing at your side? Are you satisfied with him?”

Viktor forced a cool smile. “I could not be happier with him,” he said. “He is so very dear to me.”

“Devoted and obedient, I take it?” Katsuki asked.

“Absolutely,” Viktor replied, and that was not even a lie. “I could not have hoped for a better mate.”

“Hmm,” Katsuki hummed thoughtfully. “But then again, he has unfortunately not born you an heir yet. Does that not bother you?”

Viktor shook his head, crossing his legs in a rather elegant manner. “I have not married him to have him bear me heirs,” he said. “I was looking for a companion to spend my life with, and that I have truly found in him.”

Katsuki laughed, reaching for the whiskey and taking a sip. “Yuuri has it good with you,” he said. “In Japan, he would have been sent back to us already for his infertility. What is an omega good for, if not for bearing their alpha children? Of course, there is the emotional aspect, and the companionship, I do understand that. But it does hurt the omega, too, does it not? It is their innermost desire to bear children for their alpha. And if Yuuri is anything like his dear mother, it must upset him a lot.”

Viktor sighed. He could not deny that Katsuki had a point, and that it was indeed, for most omega at least, their greatest desire to bear children. But they were so much more than that. His Yuuri was so much more than that.

But their childlessness had upset Yuuri very much, that was true.

“My jewel accepts life as it comes,” Viktor replied. “He has filled his life with things that he enjoys. Ballet, for example. And he is quite active in regards to charities.”

“At least he is busy, then,” Katsuki said, putting out the cigar in the ashtray between them. “I am looking forward to seeing him tonight. His mother wants pictures.”

Viktor chuckled. “I’m sure he will be stunning.”

* * *

As the night fell over Nikiforov Manor, a young man began to get dressed.

A bath had helped Yuuri to feel somewhat better, and he had managed to eat a few bites of the sandwich that Phichit had made for him. But now that he stood on the pedestal in his dressing room again, facing himself in the mirror, he thought of the evening that was about to come, and the nervousness returned to his body.

Phichit was a godsent in this situation. There was no one else with Yuuri in the room except for him, and Phichit was truly the only one he needed right now. Putting on the kimono was a task that required both focus and strength, and he trusted Phichit to do it right. Everything had to be perfect tonight.

Especially the kimono.

Once more, he would wear his mother’s kimono; the light pink one he had worn the day he had met the Thai. The Yuuri of that day and the Yuuri of tonight could not have been more different. The other Yuuri had been proud and confident.

This Yuuri was scared and felt sick.

“You can make it through the night,” Phichit assured him as he put layer after layer around Yuuri, slowly creating a masterpiece. “You will be perfect. I know it.”

“I have to be perfect,” Yuuri said quietly, lifting his arms a little as Phichit worked around him.

“Trust me on this,” Phichit said as he put the outer, final layer around him, and then reached for the obi. “You will be flawless in every aspect.”

Yuuri only hoped that this was true.

Once he was dressed – with the obi bound not as tightly as it would usually be worn – he put on his geta and the jewellery, the blue sapphires that Viktor had gifted him upon their engagement. They still were his favourite pieces amongst all the jewels that he owned. They told their story, from their first meeting until today. They were Viktor’s first declarations of love.

How could they not mean the world to Yuuri, then?

“Are you alright?” Phichit asked as Yuuri took a deep breath. “You can always say that you are ill. Viktor won’t mind.”

“But my family will mind,” Yuuri murmured. “I won’t let them think they have sent Viktor a bad mate.”

Phichit rubbed his arm sympathetically. “You could never be a bad mate to him, Yuuri.”

Yuuri did not reply.

Just then, he heard the familiar footsteps of his husband, followed by the opening of the door behind him.

Viktor approached him, impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, the golden cufflinks sparkling on his wrist.

“My most precious jewel,” he sighed dreamily as he took Yuuri’s hands and kissed his knuckles. “How beautiful you are.”

Yuuri managed to smile, but turned his head as Viktor tried to kiss him on the lips. No, he did not want his husband to catch the same flu. “I put on rather expensive make up,” he lied, and felt terrible for it.

“Oh, I see,” Viktor said, and seemed to think nothing of it. “Phichit, your suit is excellent. Chris will love it.”

Phichit blushed furiously, and stuttered something that neither of them understood, but it made Yuuri chuckle nonetheless.

“Let’s go, shall we?” Viktor said, offering Yuuri his arm.

Yuuri took a deep breath.

With Viktor at his side, it felt easier to walk. Viktor’s presence was reassuring, his warmth so close that Yuuri could practically feel his excitement. This was nothing difficult for his husband, after all. Yes, how many times had Viktor welcomed and entertained people, and Yuuri had just stood there and smiled?

Together, they descended the stairs to the entrance hall, already hearing the music coming from the large dining room where their banquet would be held. Just before they entered, Viktor stopped once more, pressing a tender kiss to Yuuri’s temple.

“I love you so,” he whispered, and Yuuri’s eyes watered.

The doors were opened for them, and Yuuri took a deep breath as they went to face their guests.

* * *

The room was full of faces that Yuuri knew, but had never spoken to. Simply because he had not been allowed. But these were his uncle’s men, members of the Katsuki branch of the Yakuza, and they all looked at him, bowed to him and his husband as they entered together.

And then, there was his uncle Daikichi, the man that had shaped his life like none other, and with whom Yuuri had exchanged probably less than a hundred words in his whole life. The man approached them, greeting Viktor first before turning to face Yuuri.

“And there is my nephew,” he said in accentuated English and pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, showing his respect for Viktor through his mate. “It has been a while since we last saw each other. I must say that your mate looks most divine, Nikiforov-san.”

Viktor laughed and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek, more for reassurance than for display. “I often feel like I am the luckiest man on earth, Katsuki-san,” he said. “I cannot be grateful enough for this most precious gift that you made me with him. My mate is my sun on a rainy day.”

Katsuki chuckled. “How poetic indeed,” he said, looking Yuuri up and down. “Who would have thought that my very own nephew was an uncut diamond that only needed the right partner in order to shine?”

“Now you are being poetic, my friend,” Viktor said, his hand coming to rest on top of Yuuri’s on his arm. “But you are right. My Yuuri is a divine beauty. I never tire of looking at him.”

Yuuri blushed at his words, and Viktor hoped that his mate knew that he meant it – that he did not just say it for their guests.

“A beauty, and still shy, it seems,” Katsuki said. “But then again, an omega does not need to talk. Especially not with such looks.”

“Indeed.” Viktor moved a little closer to Yuuri in reassurance.

“His mother will be delighted to hear that he has settled in so well,” Katsuki added and faced Yuuri again. “Your sister will be here shortly as well. She also has expressed the wish to see you.”

Yuuri nodded, bowing his head. “Domo arigatou gozaimasu, oji-sama.”

Viktor smiled proudly. “Well done, darling,” he hummed and kissed him again. “My jewel hates speaking in public, but as we all see now, family is an exception. Shall we?”

Dinner had just been served, and they only had to take their seats. Never had Viktor been more grateful for Phichit at Yuuri’s side than he was now, the other man’s presence a soothing force as they began with the first course. Naturally, Viktor was soon deep in conversation with his uncle, barely able to keep an eye on his mate, no matter how much he wished it. But Phichit was there, and Chris, and Yuuri would surely manage.

The cooks had outdone themselves with specialities from both the Russian and the Japanese cuisine, but as Viktor briefly glanced at his mate, he saw that apparently, Yuuri couldn’t stomach any of it. The longer he stared at the miso soup before him, the more began Viktor to worry, before he would be pulled into another conversation topic by Yuuri’s uncle. When he looked again, he saw that Yuuri had eaten a few spoonfuls, and they moved on to the next course.

It was hard, Viktor realised as he tried to listen to Katsuki, to be a Pakhan when everything inside him screamed to take care of his mate.

“Sir.”

It was Phichit then who spoke to him, not Yuuri, and as Viktor turned his head, he could see why. Yuuri looked incredibly small and fragile on his chair, a napkin pressed against his lips, and his face incredibly pale.

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat.

“Yuuri, my sweet!” He touched his arm. “Are you alright?”

“He is not, I’m afraid,” Phichit said as Yuuri let out a tiny whine, trying hard to keep the food in his stomach.

Viktor frowned, reaching out to Yuuri’s forehead to check the temperature. “And you have forced yourself out of bed just to be here with me. Phichit, please be so kind and bring Yuuri back to his rooms.”

“Yes, Sir,” Phichit said before Yuuri could say something, putting an arm around the omega to help him stand. “Come, Yuuri…”

It hurt Viktor to see his mate like this, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel moved at the fact that his Yuuri had tried to be brave for him, despite feeling ill. He held out his hand to help Yuuri out of his chair, knowing very well that he could not follow him now, not when they had guests. But he was in the best hands with Phichit, Viktor knew that.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered, barely audible, not even for Viktor, but the Pakhan would not hear any of it.

“No, Yuuri, don’t be sorry. Go and rest, yes?” He told him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go of him, watching worriedly as Phichit carefully led his mate towards the door.

“Omega are so terribly fragile creatures,” Katsuki sighed. “And prone to sickness. I hope he will feel better soon.”

Viktor nodded, looking at the man. “Thank you. I will tell him. I am sure he has just-“

His words were interrupted by the cries of Phichit coming from the entrance hall, the cry of Yuuri’s name that sent the coldest of shivers down Viktor’s spine, and that made him run out of the dining room to search for his mate.

“Yuuri!” Phichit cried, and Viktor reached them just in time as Yuuri’s knees gave in and he fainted, sinking into Viktor’s saving arms.

“Yuuri!” Viktor breathed, holding him close, patting his pale cheeks in sheer panic. “Yuuri, my love, can you hear me?”

Yuuri groaned, his eyelids fluttering as he slowly came back to his senses, but not far enough to articulate himself well. “Vi… Vikutoru…”

“A doctor, quick!” Viktor called at Chris before lifting Yuuri into his arms to carry him upstairs, away from the people, away from the prying eyes of their men. Phichit followed them, holding up all doors as Viktor made his way back to their rooms as fast as he could, his mate trembling in his arms. Viktor could have damned himself for not noticing any of this sooner. How had he been able to miss the paleness of his mate? His trembling hands, the lack of appetite?

All of this was his fault, and Viktor hated himself for it.

Back in their bedroom, he put Yuuri down on the bed, tugging on the tight kimono to take it off him, but only with Phichit’s help, he was able to dress Yuuri down to his nagajuban.

“The doctor is on his way, my love,” Viktor assured him and cupped his cheeks. “I’m right here with you, I won’t leave you alone.”

Yuuri groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he curled up on the bed, only to suddenly press his hand against his mouth again. Phichit reacted before Viktor could, and held out a bucket he apparently had produced out of nowhere as Yuuri threw up, the retching sound sending the coldest of shivers down Viktor’s spine.

Never had he felt so helpless and useless before.

“That’s it, let it out,” Phichit said quietly, rubbing Yuuri’s back soothingly, never flinching the slightest as Yuuri lost the meagre contents of his stomach. Viktor could do nothing but sit there and wait. Finally, Yuuri’s torture seemed to come to an end, and the trembling omega fell back onto the bed and into Viktor’s arms with a heartbreaking whimper.

“Oh, darling…” Viktor whispered, taking the wet cloth that Phichit gave him and gently dabbed Yuuri’s lips.

A knock on the door announced Christophe, who entered the room only for a moment. “The doctor is on his way,” he said, briefly glancing down at Yuuri, who looked so small and fragile in Viktor’s arms. “Katsuki told his men to stay seated.”

Viktor nodded, never taking his eyes off Yuuri.

It was quiet in the room, the only sound being Yuuri’s shallow breathing and his groans of discomfort, but he did not throw up again. Phichit managed to give him some water to drink, but more than two or three small sips Yuuri did not seem to be able to manage.

Viktor kissed his mate’s sweaty forehead. “The doctor will be here soon, my love,” he whispered. “Everything will be fine.”

Yuuri’s reply was nothing but a heartbreaking whine.

Phichit took Yuuri’s hand into his own, sighing softly.

It seemed to take ages until the doctor finally arrived, although it had been less than fifteen minutes. Viktor knew the man, an omega specialist from the village nearby where Yakov and Lilia lived, and an acquaintance of the family. The man greeted Viktor and Phichit with a brief nod before putting his bag down and sitting beside Yuuri.

“What has happened?” He asked.

“My mate fainted in the hallway,” Viktor said, quickly giving his permission to the doctor to touch Yuuri for an examination. “He felt unwell during dinner and wanted to lie down. He threw up as well.”

“He also threw up his morning,” Phichit added, looking apologetically at Viktor as he stared at him in horror. “He made me swear not to tell you, Sir. He didn’t want you to worry.”

The doctor gently touched Yuuri’s forehead and cheeks, patting them lightly. “Your wellborn, how are you feeling?” He asked softly.

Yuuri sniffed. “Not good.”

“What is wrong with him, doctor?” Viktor asked. “I have never seen him like this.”

“At first glance, this seems like a circulatory collapse,” the man replied calmly, taking Yuuri’s hand to feel his pulse. “Were you feeling hot and cold at the same time, your wellborn?”

Yuuri managed to give a small nod as a response, curling up further in Viktor’s arms for comfort out of sheer instinct. Viktor’s heart broke at the sight.

“He has not been feeling well for a few days,” Phichit said. “Especially in the mornings. He has barely eaten.”

The doctor nodded, lost in thought for a moment.

“Mr. Nikiforov, with your permission, I would like to examine your mate further,” he said then.

“Of course,” Viktor said immediately, looking down at Yuuri and kissing his hair. “The doctor will examine you now, yes?”

“Could you sit up for me, please?” The doctor asked kindly. “Just for a moment.”

With Viktor’s help, Yuuri managed to sit up, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed as the doctor began to examine him, pressing several points on his stomach and near his kidneys. Only when he examined Yuuri’s chest, the omega made small sounds of discomfort.

Viktor never let go of him, holding him in his arms.

“I would like to do a brief internal examination,” the doctor said then.

Viktor blinked in confusion, not sure why that would be necessary, but when he looked at Phichit, he saw that the Thai did not seem surprised at all.

“Of course,” Viktor said slowly, holding Yuuri closer as the doctor opened his bag and put on a pair of gloves. “The doctor will just take a quick look at you, yes?”

Yuuri gave a small nod, resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder and closing his eyes. It was as if his mate had simply stopped caring about what was done with him, if it only made him feel better.

Viktor truly couldn’t blame him.

The doctor worked quickly, one hand on Yuuri’s stomach as he examined him. When he pulled his hands away again and took off his gloves, he was smiling.

“I’m sure this is not a stomach flu,” he said, looking up at Viktor. “I believe congratulations are in order, Sir. Your mate is with child.”

Viktor stared at him.

Yuuri stirred in his arms, lifting his head, as if the words of the doctor had woken him from his daze. “…mwhat…?”

The doctor rose from the floor, throwing the used gloves into the trash. “The anatomy of male omega is slightly different from female ones. You could say that his womb has sealed itself because he has conceived. Of course it is too early to be entirely sure, but I think that he is six or seven weeks pregnant.”

A tiny sob came over Yuuri’s lips, the tears rolling down his mate’s cheeks. And before Viktor knew it, he was crying, too, overwhelmed by feelings he could not describe.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri breathed, looking at the doctor with wide eyes. “I’m…”

The older man chuckled and nodded warmly. “Yes, your wellborn. I’m very sure. You have been experiencing rather persistent morning sickness, hence the nausea. Paired with the excitement of planning such an evening, you must have completely forgotten about your period.”

Yuuri blinked. “I… I forgot it, yes,” he said slowly, looking at Phichit. “We forgot it.”

“We forgot it,” Phichit repeated weakly. “Oh my God, Yuuri, I’m so sorry. I should have noticed.”

“These little things are easily missed when one is busy,” the doctor assured them. “We can do a pregnancy test at my surgery tomorrow. But I’m fairly sure that it will only conform what I have already said.”

For a long moment, neither Viktor nor Yuuri spoke, their hands joined on top of Yuuri’s belly.

They were going to be parents.

The doctor reached into his bag, pulling out a small pill bottle and handing it to Phichit. “This will help his wellborn to sleep,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at my surgery.”

“I’ll take you to the door,” Phichit said, wanting to give the couple their privacy. Leaving the pill bottle on Yuuri’s bedtable, he followed the doctor out of the room, carefully closing the door behind himself.

Yuuri was the first of the two that found his voice again, quiet, rough, but it was there. “I’m having a baby…”

Viktor nodded weakly. “We… we are having a baby,” he said. “Oh my God, we are having a… a baby.”

Yuuri turned around in his arms, just enough to look at Viktor. His mate was still incredibly pale, but there was a sparkle in his eyes – the sparkle of pure joy that Viktor had hoped to see in them for so long. And now it was there, the spark of life, right beneath their hands, growing in Yuuri’s belly.

“I had given up all… all hope,” Yuuri whispered. “And now it is happening and I can hardly believe it.”

“Neither can I,” Viktor said quietly. “But… but we must have done something right to be blessed with such a gift.”

Yuuri laughed softly, and the sound alone was music to Viktor’s ears.

They were silent for a while, just holding each other, Viktor’s hand caressing Yuuri’s belly.

They were having a baby.

“You have to go back to our guests,” Yuuri said after a while.

“No.” Viktor shook his head. “I can’t leave you alone now.”

“You have to, Viktor,” Yuuri said softly. “I’ll be fine. Phichit will stay with me.”

Deep down, Viktor knew that Yuuri was right. He couldn’t just abandon the Japanese delegation in their dining room and risk insulting them. But he wanted to stay with his mate.

“I won’t be gone for long,” Viktor promised, cupping Yuuri’s cheeks and kissing him tenderly.

“I know,” Yuuri whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Viktor then tucked Yuuri in, making sure his mate was safe and warm, kissing his forehead once more.

“Can you believe this,” Yuuri whispered. “That we are actually having a baby.”

Viktor couldn’t help but laugh. “I keep thinking that this is a dream.”

But deep down, they both knew that it was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAIL BABY!
> 
> (Also, please keep in mind that when it comes to pregnancy facts, I'll take some liberties because this is omegaverse)


	13. Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I did not have much time to write these days as I had exams to pass. The good news is that I passed my super important exam on literary history with a perfect score. The bad news is that my Japanese exam was so horrible that no one in the class understood the text at all. So there's that.  
> Anyway, I finally found the time and right mindset to write again! This chapter takes place PRE-Phichit, ca. 1 month after their return from their honeymoon. 
> 
> This chapter is a little shorter because my brain is still very much a mess after the exams.

Just like that, Yuuri’s new life in Russia had begun.

Before marrying Viktor, Yuuri had spent many nights thinking of his future, trying to imagine what it would be like. What Viktor would be like. Some of his expectations had come true, such as the immense wealth of his husband. Others had proven to be non-existent. Viktor’s behaviour had not changed after claiming him, no – if anything, he even treated him better with every day, and Yuuri had never felt so loved before. Viktor was a wonderful husband, and every morning when he woke up at his side, and felt Viktor’s arms around him, Yuuri could not believe his luck.

Soon, they had fallen into a routine – a routine that had now been disturbed by an angry, moody teenager living with them.

Yuri was difficult, Viktor had said to Yuuri over breakfast when the loud music of his brother had disturbed their otherwise peaceful morning. In Yuuri’s eyes, Viktor’s brother was merely a teenager, and he was sure that it could not be easy being fifteen years old and a newly presented alpha on top of that.

Especially not at a boarding school.

Yuuri did not mind that his brother-in-law was staying with them. On the contrary – it was a welcome distraction for him. Viktor was incredibly busy and he did not see him that much during the day. And so, he spent his days with Yuri, even practising ballet with him. It was rather fascinating to Yuuri that the teenager seemed to respect Lilia so much that he did not even snap at her, but did everything she said. Yuri was a graceful dancer, Yuuri saw that immediately, and he was glad that he could share his passion with someone.

“Viktor doesn’t dance with you?” Yuri asked him after one ballet session, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel.

Yuuri shook his head. “I never asked him, to be honest.”

“You should,” Yuri said. “He’s good. He’s an idiot, but he’s good.” He tossed the towel aside and grabbed his water bottle from the table by the door. “He did figure skating when he was a kid.”

“Really?” Yuuri frowned. That he had not known. “He never told me.”

Yuri shrugged. “That moron probably forgot. He forgets a lot.”

“I never got the impression that he forgets a lot of things, to be honest,” Yuuri said and took his own water bottle, taking a sip. “He is… rather considerate.”

Yuri made a retching noise. “You two are so fucking adorable with each other, it makes me want to puke,” he muttered. “He can’t be that considerate if he keeps leaving you alone, though.”

By saying that, Yuri had unknowingly touched a rather sore spot, but Yuuri tried his best to not let it show. Instead, he smiled at his brother-in-law and said: “He’s very busy, yes.”

Yuuri knew that Viktor did not leave him alone so much on purpose. Every single night, he would storm into their bedchamber, kiss Yuuri senseless, and apologise over and over again for missing yet another lunch with him. Yuuri was not angry with him because of it, knowing that his husband was very busy and that some things had just recently come up. But that did not mean he didn’t miss Viktor.

“I’m meeting up with Beka later,” Yuri said as they ascended the stairs to the main floor together. “Wanna come along?”

Yuuri knew that the teenager was only asking out of sympathy, and that he’d much rather be alone with Otabek. So he shook his head and put on yet another smile. “I want to finish my book later,” he said. “Go without me.”

Yuri shrugged. “Your loss.”

Their ways parted at the door to Yuuri’s chambers, and Yuuri sighed heavily as he was finally able to close the door and find himself alone again.

Only when he was alone, like he was now, he would notice how large his apartment actually was. There was not just the living room and the bedroom, but also the bathroom, the walk-in closet, a dining room – which they hardly used as they preferred to eat at the table by the fireplace -, a study… It did not feel so big when Viktor was with him, because Viktor actually owned this place. It still did not feel like his own to Yuuri, although Viktor had assured him again and again that everything that he owned was also Yuuri’s. But the omega found it hard to wrap his head around the fact that all of this belonged to him, too. At home in Japan, he had hardly owned the clothes he wore, and he had been taught to never demand something from the alpha he would marry one day. Not that this was necessary – Viktor gave him so many things without Yuuri even having to ask.

But no gift, no flowers, no pearls or jewels could replace Viktor, and Yuuri’s heart ached as he realised how much he actually missed him.

Just sleeping at Viktor’s side at night was not enough.

He sighed and went to the bathroom, taking off his ballet clothes on the way and throwing them into the laundry basket. The shower had quickly become one of Yuuri’s favourite places; large, with a huge shower head and a built-in bench to sit on – the latter Yuuri always used, mainly for Viktor’s sake, who was always worried about Yuuri slipping and hurting himself. The bench was also perfect for some ‘intimacy’ in the shower, as Viktor liked to call it, and Yuuri thought fondly of the many times they had loved each other there.

Without Viktor, the shower felt too big.

Yuuri sat down on the bench with a sigh and let the water come down over his head and down his body. Viktor had been so busy that they had not even mated much, and the swell of Yuuri’s belly had disappeared. He had gotten so used to having it that it now felt strange to not feel it anymore, and Yuuri often found himself absentmindedly touching his stomach, only to realise that nothing was there.

Yuuri tried to be optimistic. One day, he knew that, the swell would not disappear but grow, and he would proudly carry Viktor’s child. It was only a matter of weeks, probably.

Yuuri rose from the bench, grabbing the shampoo and conditioner from the shelf, but as he looked down, his heart sank. A few drops of blood smeared the bench, promptly washed away by the oncoming water from above, but it was enough to tell Yuuri the truth.

That, and the mild cramps starting in his belly.

Yuuri closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was nothing to be ashamed of, he told himself and thought back to the times on their honeymoon when he had bled. How gentle and considerate Viktor had been. How worried. How forgiving.

It was something normal, after all. One could not expect to fall pregnant immediately, no matter what some doctors said.

Yuuri washed his hair and body before he could bleed into the shower more and then sorted himself out, finding the box of tampons in the mirror closet. The painkillers, however, were nowhere to be seen in the bathroom, and his cramps increased in an alarming rate. Yuuri took a deep breath, rubbing his belly as he continued his search in the bedroom, looking through his own drawers first before facing Viktor’s side of the bed. He hesitated, not sure if he was supposed to look through Viktor’s things. But then again, Viktor had told him that nothing in this house was forbidden to him.

The lower drawer was empty except for a travel passport with a fake name, showing Viktor as a teenager with long hair. It had expired, of course, but it seemed that Viktor kept the thing for sentimental reasons. Viktor looked good with long hair, Yuuri thought not for the first time, and put the passport back. The upper drawer of the bedside table was a lot fuller. The first thing Yuuri noticed was the loaded gun resting on top of Viktor’s things, and Yuuri took it out carefully before continuing his search for medication. But instead of pills, he only found a dried petal of the roses that had ornamented their table at their wedding reception, as well as a print-out of the very first photograph that Yuuri had sent to him after accepting his proposal. His mother had taken the picture, he remembered, an incredibly formal one with Yuuri sitting on a bench in the mansion’s garden in a yukata.

Yuuri smiled at the sweet gesture of his husband, and carefully put the gun back before closing the drawer.

It seemed that there were no painkillers in either their bathroom or their bedroom. But where else could he look? Who could he ask?

Yulia had her day off, and the other servants had their lunch break. Not that Yuuri would have asked them anyway. He was not sure how to approach these people, and tried his best not to even think of the fact he had so many servants for himself.

The only person he could ask was Viktor. Viktor, who was somewhere on the other side of the house in his study, doing business.

Yuuri knew he was allowed to go there. Viktor had explicitly said to him that he was welcome there at any time, no matter the hour of the day, regardless of the reason. But going there meant not only finding the way there, but also having to encounter other people – Viktor’s men. Most of the time, Yuuri did not see them, sometimes heard their voices coming from the courtyard. But he never interacted with them, and they never interacted with him. Mainly because they were not allowed to.

His stomach then cramped painfully, and Yuuri hugged his stomach tightly, breathing through the pain. If he did not want to suffer until the evening, then he had to find Viktor.

The entrance hall was empty as Yuuri left his rooms and went downstairs. He was not wearing any shoes, his feet clad in tights not making any sound as he walked across the marble floor to the doors that led to the other wing of the mansion, where Viktor worked. At some point, Viktor had shown Yuuri everything, but the omega was not sure if he would find the way again. He had to try. Even if he had to ask for directions.

The first people that saw him were men Yuuri had never seen around before, but they seemed to know the rules – for the moment Yuuri entered the hallway, they lowered their heads and stepped aside, letting him through without protest. Of course they did not protest, Yuuri reminded himself as he hugged himself self-consciously and kept walking. _This is my house._

After the next set of doors, there were even more people, sitting on sofas and chairs and talking. The moment Yuuri entered, the conversations stopped and everyone stood, bowing their heads. Yuuri blushed, hurrying through the room and into the next empty corridor, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

He could have called Viktor, Yuuri realised. Yes, he could have simply called his phone, from the safety of his rooms. But it was too late now, Yuuri’s phone lying abandoned on their bed and therefore out of reach. The only thing he could do now was to keep going, and search until he found Viktor’s study.

It was Viktor’s voice that he found first.

He could hear him already from the corridor he was in. Viktor was yelling, sounding so furious that it sent the coldest shivers down his spine. But Yuuri kept going, following the voice of his husband through the hallway and into something that looked very much like a reception room. A few men were sitting on sofas, smoking cigarettes and throwing cautious glances at the door on the other side of the room. There was also a desk, occupied currently by Chris, although the name sign did not match.

“Your wellborn!” Chris said in surprise as he spotted Yuuri standing in the doorframe, immediately rising from his chair, and so did the others. Unlike them, however, Chris did not lower his gaze but approached Yuuri with a friendly smile on his face. “You want to see Viktor?”

Yuuri nodded shyly, glancing nervously at the door behind which his husband was yelling in incomprehensible Russian at some very unfortunate person.

“Just go in, then,” Chris said, gesturing at the door. “Viktor has stated that you are to be let in at all times.”

Yuuri hesitated, exchanging a worried look with Chris, but the Swiss just nodded encouragingly, as if there was nothing to worry about despite the yelling and shouting coming from the Pakhan’s office.

Not wanting to be a coward, Yuuri took a deep breath and walked past Chris towards the door, very carefully pushing down the handle and opening the door.

It was just how he had thought: Viktor was standing behind his desk, his fists on top of a pile of files as he yelled at the three men sitting before him in armchairs, their eyes wide in horror as they tried to explain themselves. Viktor’s face was a brutal mask, nothing like the man that Yuuri knew and loved. His eyes that always were so full of love for him were now cold, and everything about him declared that he was not just an alpha, but _the_ alpha.

That there was no one superior to him.

But then, Viktor’s eyes met Yuuri’s, and he stopped yelling at once. His expression softened, then turned to shocked at the sight of Yuuri standing there in the door, small and afraid and overwhelmed by everything.

“My jewel,” he sighed and walked around the desk, and Yuuri fled into his arms before the men in the room could even turn around to look at him. The moment Viktor’s arms came around him, Yuuri exhaled deeply, burying his face in his husband’s chest.

“Out of my sight,” Viktor hissed at the men, who almost fell out of their seats in their hurry to leave the room, saving themselves from the Pakhan’s wrath.

The moment the door fell shut, Viktor exhaled deeply and Yuuri felt his husband’s lips on his hair.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that, my jewel,” Viktor said softly and pulled away just enough to look Yuuri in the eye. “But I won’t deny that I’m overjoyed to see you here.”

Yuuri shivered in his arms. “I’m happy to see you, too,” he said quietly, and closed his eyes as Viktor pressed a tender, loving kiss to his lips.

“I didn’t think you would come here today,” Viktor admitted. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have had those pieces of scum here.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude-“ Yuuri began, but Viktor wouldn’t hear any of it.

“You are not intruding, my darling,” Viktor said softly and cupped his cheeks. “But you look a little pale. Are you alright?”

That reminded Yuuri of the reason why he had come here, and he felt his stomach cramp again, as if it had just been waiting to remind him that yes, he was in fact bleeding and not pregnant.

Yuuri swallowed. “I’m… I’m having cramps and couldn’t find my meds,” he murmured.

Viktor blinked. “Oh,” he said, letting go of Yuuri’s face to take his hands. “You are bleeding?”

Yuuri nodded sadly.

Viktor sighed. “Don’t be sad, my jewel,” he whispered and kissed Yuuri’s forehead. “Everything’s fine. Let’s get you something against the pain, hm?”

“There are people waiting for you outside—”

“Then they can wait a little longer,” Viktor said firmly. “Nothing could ever be more important than you. Always remember that.”

With his argumentation defeated, all that Yuuri could do then was to nod.

“Sit down, love, I’ll find you some painkillers,” Viktor said, gesturing at his very own seat behind the desk as he began to look through the drawers. Yuuri hesitated for a moment, then did as he was told and sat down in the large chair, feeling incredibly small in the Pakhan’s seat – and even smaller behind the Pakhan’s desk. It was a rather huge, imposing piece of furniture, scarcely decorated. There was only a plant and a single photograph on it – showing Yuuri on the beach in Brazil, wearing one of the many tunics and smiling into the camera.

“You have a picture of me here?” Yuuri asked in surprise, causing Viktor to look up from his search through the desk’s drawers.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course!” He said with a smile. “Aha!” He chuckled triumphantly as he pulled out a box of painkillers. “There we go. I don’t know why there are not any in your bathroom cabinet but we shall ask Yulia to get you some.” He took a pill out for Yuuri and got him a glass of water as well, watching Yuuri swallow his medicine. “I hope this one will help.”

“I hope it, too,” Yuuri murmured, rubbing his stomach as the cramps hit him once more.

“Oh dear,” Viktor sighed and kissed Yuuri’s hair. “Come, let us get to somewhere more comfortable than this chair.”

He pulled Yuuri to his feet again and put his arm around his waist, taking the omega to the room next door. This was Viktor’s private library and study, Yuuri remembered as they entered the room, and he also remembered that Viktor had said that he liked this room very much. He could see why. It was a beautiful room, with large bookshelves and comfortable armchairs by the fireplace. There was also a large sofa that Viktor took him to.

“I’ll just make sure no one bothers us,” he said to Yuuri before going back to his office, most likely to tell Chris that they were not to be disturbed.

Yuuri leant back on the sofa, pulling up his legs and hugging a cushion close to his chest. It was quiet, calm, and peaceful in this room. No wonder Viktor liked to spend his time in here. It was like a place of refuge, and Yuuri felt incredibly honoured to be allowed in here.

He let his eyes wander, his gaze falling onto the books on the coffee table before him. He knew that Viktor was an avid reader, but as Yuuri take a closer look, he realised that these were no novels nor poetry, but advice books and manuals about omega care. Yuuri leant forward, reading the titles: _Your First Omega,_ one of them read. Another one had the title _On Love: Between Passion and Devotion._ It looked well-read. Yet another book had the title _An Omega’s Cycle: Nature’s Most Beautiful Miracle._ There were many more books like this on the coffee table, Yuuri realised, and it seemed that Viktor had indeed read them all.

A moment later, Viktor returned, sighing contentedly as he closed the door behind himself. “Now we won’t be disturbed,” he said and joined Yuuri on the sofa, who immediately curled up on his lap and buried his face in Viktor’s neck. He couldn’t help it. Being finally so close to Viktor again, to have him completely to himself when he was not feeling well – how could he not hold onto him, then?

Viktor put his arms around him and nuzzled his hair. “Hmm, this is nice,” he murmured. “I missed you so much, my Yuuri.”

“I missed you, too,” Yuuri murmured. “I know you’re busy, but…”

“I should never be too busy to see you,” Viktor said softly, reaching down to cup Yuuri’s belly, rubbing it gently in an attempt to ease the pain. “Especially when you are not feeling well.”

Yuuri blushed at his husband’s gesture and could barely suppress the purr that was about to escape him. “You are very kind,” he said quietly, relaxing a little more in Viktor’s embrace. His eyes fell onto the books on the coffee table again, and he couldn’t help but ask. “You… you read all these books?”

“I did,” Viktor confirmed. “I bought them all after you accepted my proposal. I wanted to be the best alpha and husband to you that I could possibly be. Some of them were rubbish, of course, but others were quite helpful. I learnt this from the books, for example,” he said, nodding at his hand that was rubbing Yuuri’s belly. “The book said that rubbing an omega’s belly eases both pain and anxiety.”

“That is true…” Yuuri confirmed, deeply moved that his husband had tried to educate himself just for him.

“I’m glad,” Viktor smiled and lowered his head to press another kiss to Yuuri’s lips. “The books gave me an idea of what to expect, and how to help you to settle in. I hope I did a good job.”

Yuuri smiled softly. “You did,” he assured Viktor. “I’m very happy here, with you.” He leant up to catch Viktor’s lips in another kiss, curling up further on his husband’s lap as they exchanged tender caresses and whispers of sweet nothings. This was what he had always dreamt of to have in marriage, a loving husband who cared for him, loved him, and respected him the way Viktor did.

“There is also another method suggested by the books to ease an omega’s discomfort,” Viktor whispered between kisses. But before Yuuri could ask him what he was talking about, he felt his husband’s hand slip down his stomach and into his tights and underwear.

“H-haaa…” Yuuri breathed and closed his eyes as Viktor touched him, his fingers gentle on him. It did feel different from the other times when Viktor touched him like this, his intent clearly non-sexual but only meant for comfort, but it was a most pleasant feeling nonetheless. Instinctively, Yuuri parted his legs a little more for his husband, resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder and allowing himself to let go.

He didn’t know for how long he lay there, in his husband’s arms and being held and comforted by him, the pleasure making his head feel cloudy and forbidding any coherent thought. It was not until he came with a small cry and earned a kiss to the top of his head in return that Yuuri came back to his senses, and he curled up in Viktor’s arms, pressing a kiss to his jaw, murmuring a small thank-you.

Viktor ran a hand through Yuuri’s hair, almost thoughtfully so.

“I should steal you away to a remote island,” he whispered. “And make love to you under the stars with only the moon to be our witness.”

Yuuri yawned. “We’ve been home barely a month…”

“There’s always a good reason for a holiday, my jewel,” Viktor replied, rubbing Yuuri’s belly gently. “I’m tempted to buy an island for you and me…”

At that, Yuuri opened his eyes and gave his husband a good, long look.

“Fine, no island,” Viktor chuckled. “But I really want to go on another holiday with you. Where do you want to go? Fiji? The Bahamas? I heard Thailand has lovely places. I could ask the Chulanonts if there is a house that we could rent from them.”

“We don’t have to travel far away all the time, Vitya,” Yuuri said, wrapping his arms around his husband’s neck and sitting up properly on his lap. “I’m already the happiest when you are with me right here. In our home.”

He kissed Viktor to prove his point, and Viktor responded so wonderfully, leaning into the kiss as if he were starving. More than that Yuuri did not need or want. As long as he had Viktor at his side, he could as well live with him in poverty. All he wanted was not to be left alone.

Thankfully, Viktor seemed to understand.

When they parted again, both of them breathing heavier than before, Yuuri could see the regret in Viktor’s eyes, the genuine emotions that his husband never showed to anyone else but to him.

“I left you alone for too long already,” he murmured, his hands resting on Yuuri’s waist. “The books said that an omega needs the constant attention of their alpha especially in the early stages of marriage. I should have known better.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I don’t need you because I’m an omega, Viktor,” he said. “I need you because I love you. And it pains me so when I cannot have you to myself.” He blushed at the bold statement that had just escaped him, but he could as well just say it. “I… I sometimes wish I didn’t have to share you with the Bratva.”

Viktor said nothing to that for a few minutes.

But words were not needed, neither for him nor for Yuuri. They both knew that there was no satisfying answer to their problem, and to the fact that they both hated this particular life. Neither Viktor nor Yuuri had ever wanted it, but it had been the destiny thrust upon them the day they were born.

“If this is the life that I have to lead,” Viktor said after a while, taking Yuuri’s hands into his own, “then I might as well use it to my own benefit. And make you the most beloved, most cherished, most spoiled mate of a Pakhan that the world has ever seen. They want me to be their leader. But this is what they have to grant me in return. You are my life, Yuuri. Only you matter. You may doubt everything under the sun, but never doubt that I love you.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “Is that Shakespeare?”

“Partly,” Viktor said, and couldn’t help but smile.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around his neck again and buried his face in Viktor’s shoulder, breathing in the alpha’s strong, heavy scent. This was his alpha. This was his husband. Only his. This man loved him. Protected him. Cherished him. Respected him. Nothing in the world could ever change that.

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered.

“I love you, too,” Viktor whispered back, and held him close.

* * *

No one said a word as the Pakhan emerged from his study an hour later, carrying a sleeping omega in his arms.

But people watched. They lifted their gazes ever so slightly as the Pakhan walked past them, trying to catch a glimpse of the omega they had never truly seen nor heard. Even the most ruthless of them could not help but marvel at the way the Pakhan held his mate, in an embrace so loving that it left no question in regards to his feelings.

It seemed that their Pakhan had truly fallen in love.

And an omega with such powers was a dangerous one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you have been!


	14. Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm as tired as Yuuri is in this one.
> 
> Disclaimer: I've never been pregnant and I probably won't be anytime soon but I try to do research. Since this is ABO, I will take some liberties with the details, so please don't yell at me (except when I spread fatal misinformation, then correct me for the sake of the greater good).
> 
> Also, fanfiction is not sex-ed. Please keep that in mind.

It was well past midnight when the Pakhan returned from the banquet with the Katsuki delegation.

He looked tired, and incredibly worried as he entered the bedroom of his mate. Phichit immediately rose from his seat on the edge of the bed as Viktor dropped his jacket and sat down where Phichit had been sitting, touching Yuuri’s cheek tenderly.

“How is he?” Viktor whispered, never taking his eyes off Yuuri for even a second.

Phichit clasped his hands. “He’s fallen asleep quickly,” he said quietly, watching as Viktor gently brushed a strand of hair out of his beloved’s face. “The medication worked. But he threw up once more.”

Viktor nodded softly, leaning down to kiss Yuuri’s forehead. “He needs to see the doctor tomorrow,” he murmured.

He said nothing then for about a minute, just watching his mate sleep. Yuuri’s fingers had curled around Viktor’s out of sheer instinct, an omega’s desire to be close to their alpha even when asleep. Not for the first time did Phichit think that Viktor and Yuuri were truly made for one another. They loved each other so deeply and fiercely that nothing would ever be able to separate them.

“My Yuuri wanted a baby so badly,” Viktor whispered. “And now that he has found the strength to live without one he is blessed with one.” He smiled at that. “My beautiful Yuuri. He is so strong. Stronger than I would be…”

Viktor sighed softly, then turned his head to look up at Phichit. “Thank you, Phichit. You may retire for the night. I’m with him now.”

Phichit nodded. “Good night, Sir.”

He was careful as he closed the door behind himself, not wanting to make unnecessary noise and wake Yuuri from his at least somewhat peaceful slumber.

Outside the omega’s chambers, in his very own office, Chris was waiting for him – a cigarette between his lips and a drink in his hands which he held out for Phichit to take.

“Thank you,” Phichit murmured and took a rather large sip, not even knowing what exactly it was that the beta offered him but truly, he did not care at this moment. He was tired, so incredibly tired from all the excitement, that he was sure he would be able to sleep for at least a week.

Not that he would get the chance to do so.

Tomorrow morning, he would get back to work.

“You look like you really needed that one,” Chris remarked as Phichit sat down on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

“Have you ever seen an omega throw up?” Phichit asked.

“Nope,” Chris replied. “It’s that bad?”

“It’s horrible. They are incredibly fragile and seeing Yuuri like this is just…” Phichit sighed. “Let’s say this is not something I want to see every day.”

“Fair enough,” Chris said, sitting down beside Phichit, blowing out some smoke. “So he’s pregnant.” He chuckled. “I’ve never seen Viktor so happy. He almost tripped over his own feet in his excitement.”

“I can imagine,” Phichit said with a small smile, taking another sip from the drink that so pleasantly burned in his belly. “What did Yuuri’s uncle say?”

“He congratulated Viktor and said that Yuuri’s mother will be overjoyed,” Chris said, putting out his cigarette in the small ash tray on the table before him. “Feels strange, to be honest. That it’s finally happening, I mean.”

“I wonder what it must be like for Yuuri,” Phichit said. “He seemed like he couldn’t quite believe it yet. I think it will sink in for good when they’re seeing the doctor tomorrow.”

Chris hummed in agreement, leaning against the backrest of the sofa and spreading out his arms. “I guess so,” he said softly. “I’m very happy for them.”

“So am I,” Phichit said with a small smile, leaning back as well and closing his eyes with a sigh. “God I’m tired…”

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Chris asked.

“Still too jittery,” Phichit shrugged and opened his eyes, turning his head to look at Chris. “You?”

“Still too jittery,” Chris confirmed.

They looked at each other, not saying a word, but inside Phichit’s mind, several voices were screaming at once, so loud that he was sure that Chris could hear them too. But Chris just kept looking at him with those gorgeous eyes, and a small smile on his lips that never failed to make Phichit’s heart skip a beat.

“Maybe it’s the alcohol speaking, but… I’ll say it now, before I lose heart,” Chris said quietly, his voice barely more than a murmur. “You are gorgeous, Phichit Chulanont, and I want to kiss you so badly.”

Phichit licked his lips. “Then do,” he whispered and leant closer.

Chris’ lips were soft against his own, his scent sweet, a mixture of the perfume the beta always wore and of the cigars their guests had smoked that night. But to Phichit, there was no scent as irresistible as this one, and he found himself moaning into Chris’ mouth before he could stop himself, and leant closer as Chris’ hand cupped his cheek ever so gently.

“We should… not do this here,” Phichit breathed into the kiss, causing Chris to pull away. Even in the faint light of the table lamp beside him, he could see that the Swiss was blushing deeply, just like him.

“Do you want to take this to my room or yours?” Chris asked quietly.

Phichit swallowed thickly. “I… I want to, but…” The words died on his tongue as he saw the slight disappointment in Chris’ eyes, but only for a split second. Chris nodded understandingly.

“It’s alright,” he said softly, running his thumb across Phichit’s cheekbone.

“I mean it,” Phichit said quickly, not wanting Chris to think that he was prude. “I want… I want to-“

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Phichit,” Chris interrupted him calmly. “I know I can be quite forward.”

“Would you please let me finish?” Phichit said, becoming slightly annoyed with the other man. “I want to have sex with you, Chris. But not under these circumstances. Not when we’re both tired and just… let’s do this when there’s no alcohol involved, okay?”

Chris gave Phichit a long, thoughtful look, and Phichit was sure that he had misunderstood the whole thing. What if Chris had not wanted to have sex with him at all? What if he just wanted to keep kissing or only go to one of their rooms to… to talk?

“I like how you think, Phichit,” Chris said softly, and one look at him alone was enough to tell Phichit that he had not misunderstood. “You are right. We should not do this when alcohol is involved.”

He took Phichit’s hand and pulled him up with him as he rose to his feet. Just like that, it seemed that their magic moment was over, and Phichit had to admit that he regretted stopping Chris from doing more.

“Say, Phichit, when is your next day off?” Chris asked, still holding his hand.

“Friday,” Phichit said. “Why?”

“Perfect,” Chris smiled. “Because I plan to take you out for dinner. I court those I desire properly.” And then, he pressed a kiss to the back of Phichit’s hand before letting go. “Good night, chéri.”

“G-Good night,” Phichit managed to whisper as Chris walked out of the room, leaving him behind utterly bewitched and terribly confused, his heart in turmoil.

This was definitely too much excitement for one night, Phichit thought as he unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, shaking his head.

But perhaps some excitement was just what he needed.

* * *

The following morning, Viktor felt as if he had hardly slept, but he found that he did not care at all.

And it was true – he had not slept much. He had been far too worried about his mate, and had held Yuuri in his arms throughout the night, rocking him back and forth in his arms as the omega slept. Around sunrise, Yuuri had woken, only to throw up again. Viktor had never felt so helpless before, kneeling beside Yuuri and holding him as he suffered. But there was nothing that he could do.

Yuuri was shivering terribly as Viktor carried him back to bed and tucked him in.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri breathed as Viktor pushed a strand of hair out of his face.

“Don’t apologise, my love,” Viktor said softly, kissing his forehead.

“I didn’t mean for you to see something so disgusting…” Yuuri mumbled, leaning into his husband’s touch.

“You could never be disgusting to me,” Viktor told him, stroking Yuuri’s cheek.

Admittedly, he had been forced to hold his breath and avert his gaze as Yuuri threw up into the toilet, but he had pulled himself together. He had to be strong for his mate, and take care of him when he was not feeling well.

“I’ll take you to the doctor today, yes?” Viktor said and smiled down at Yuuri. “You will feel better once he has taken a look at you. Trust me.”

Yuuri groaned. “I hope so…”

A while later, Yulia came to open the curtains and bring them breakfast, but at the mere mention of food Yuuri groaned and hid his face in the pillow.

“We will have breakfast later,” Viktor told their loyal maid as the woman turned to him in distress over Yuuri’s behaviour. “My mate is not feeling well. I will take him to the doctor in the village in an hour. Could you please get him something comfortable to wear? Perhaps the knitted dress that he likes so very much.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Yulia said worriedly and went to do as she was told.

Helping Yuuri dress was something Viktor had done many times before. But this time, it felt different as he helped Yuuri into his clothing, first putting on one sock, then the other, followed by the knitted dress being pulled over Yuuri’s head. Every single movement seemed to cost Yuuri a lot of energy, and when he was finally dressed and his hair combed a little, he leant against Viktor in exhaustion.

If this was the price Yuuri had to pay for carrying a child, then Viktor did not like it at all.

It was still early in the morning, but Phichit was already up, sitting at his desk as Viktor came out of Yuuri’s rooms with his mate in his arms. “Good morning, Phichit,” Viktor said. “Is the car ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” Phichit said and rose, holding the doors open for the Pakhan as the man carried his mate downstairs and out of the house to the car waiting for them. There was no driver. Viktor insisted on driving Yuuri to the doctor himself, not wanting to stress Yuuri further with more people around him than necessary. Phichit helped him to get Yuuri into the passenger seat and adjusted the seatbelt a little before taking a proper look at the exhausted omega.

“I know you want to go back to bed, Yuuri,” Phichit said softly, squeezing his hand. “But when you come back, I’ll have some hot gossip for you.” He threw a glance over his shoulder before he added in a whisper: “Chris kissed me.”

At that, Yuuri managed to smile a little, and the familiar shimmer of excitement returned to his tired eyes.

“I can’t wait,” he said quietly.

Phichit pecked his cheek and then stepped back, shutting the door. Viktor slipped into the driver’s seat and started the motor, then reached for Yuuri’s hand and held it, unwilling to let go of it again, despite the fact he was driving. He knew that usually, his Yuuri would have told him to stop playing around and focus on the road. But Yuuri was so, so tired.

This was not the pregnancy Viktor had wanted for his beloved.

“Chris texted me your sister will arrive just in time for lunch,” he said, trying to distract Yuuri a little from his misery. “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. Your sister is scary.”

Yuuri managed a small smile. “She’s just being my older sister,” he murmured, looking at Viktor with tired but hopeful eyes. “No need to be afraid of her. She’ll like you.”

“She didn’t seem to like me that much whenever we briefly talked on Skype, though.”

“That’s just how she is,” Yuuri said and squeezed Viktor’s hand. “And besides… when she sees how well you look after me, she just has to love you.”

Viktor squeezed back. “I feel rather useless at the moment, to be honest,” he said softly. “I… I have to admit that I’m shit scared.”

The moment the words were out, Viktor regretted saying them, and he looked back at the road with burning ears. Was he not supposed to be the stronger one of the two, especially now, when Yuuri was not feeling well? But Yuuri had already intertwined Viktor’s fingers with his own, and his voice was, despite his tiredness, incredibly tender.

“I’m just pregnant, Vitya,” he said. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

“I know,” Viktor said, swallowing thickly. “But what if… what if I can’t be the alpha and husband you deserve during this time, Yuuri? What if I’m a completely useless husband?”

“Then you are _my_ completely useless husband,” Yuuri said calmly. “And we can do this together. We always have. Okay?”

It should be the other way round, Viktor thought again as his mate comforted him and his innermost fears. It should be him comforting Yuuri in this moment. Yuuri should not have to worry about a single thing.

“Okay,” Viktor whispered, looking at Yuuri once more, smiling at him although he felt so terribly helpless, before he focused on the road again.

The village near their manor was a small, beautiful spot that both Viktor and Yuuri liked very much. Although it was indeed very little and had no shops except for a pharmacy and a grocery store that sold the bare essentials, it was a charming place, and most of their staff lived there as well. Lilia also owned one of the cottages, and both Viktor and Yuuri were her frequent guests. Here, they did not have to worry about security concerns. The villagers knew who they were, and that the one keeping their bills low and their streets clean and safe was Viktor, so no one bothered them.

The parking lot before the surgery was empty as Viktor parked the car. He got out and went to open the door for Yuuri, ready to carry him inside, but it seemed that pride had gotten the better of his mate again, for he refused to be carried inside.

“I can walk,” he insisted as he got out of the car, taking a deep breath of the cool air.

Viktor did not argue with him.

However, he stayed close to him, and kept his hand on the small of Yuuri’s back as they entered the building and were greeted by the receptionist. Although they were already a few people in the waiting room, they were immediately shown to the doctor’s office. Viktor pulled a chair out for Yuuri and sat down beside him, holding his hand and regarding him worriedly. He did not like how pale he was.

“Here,” Viktor said and got up, picking up a water bottle from the table beside them and holding it out to Yuuri.

Yuuri looked at the bottle for less than a second. “I’m not thirsty.”

“As your alpha, I want you to drink it,” Viktor said firmly and pushed the bottle into Yuuri’s hand. “You haven’t eaten this morning, but you need to drink something at least.”

Yuuri shivered at the tone of voice that Viktor was using, and whilst Viktor hated speaking to Yuuri like this, he knew that he had to. He knew how stubborn his mate could be, and that even after two years of marriage, Yuuri was still as determined as he had always been in terms of obedience.

What his alpha demanded, he would do.

And so, he unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a few small sips.

Viktor sat down at his side again, waiting patiently until Yuuri was done.

He had not drunk much, he noticed when he looked at the bottle, but it was at least something.

A few minutes later, the doctor came in, greeting them both with a warm handshake. “Now, how are we feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat down and clasped his hands. “Was he able to sleep?” He asked Viktor.

Viktor nodded. “Yes, but he threw up again after you left. And once more this morning, after waking up.”

“I see. Was he able to eat something?”

“Not yet. The mere mention of food was… difficult.”

“Understandable,” the doctor said and studied Yuuri for a moment, who seemed barely able to keep his eyes open. Then, he reached down into a drawer, pulling out a small cup. “To confirm the pregnancy I ask you to provide a urine sample. Are you well enough to do that, your wellborn?”

Yuuri nodded lightly, slowly rising from the chair with Viktor’s help, who was determined to not let his mate out of sight as long as he was feeling so unwell. He took him outside to the toilet, keeping the door ajar in case Yuuri needed him, but otherwise gave him his privacy, trying to ignore the nurses who gave him sympathetic looks.

A few minutes later, Yuuri emerged from the restroom with a cup, leaving it with the nurses and following Viktor back to the office again. There, he entirely ignored his own chair and climbed into Viktor’s lap instead, burying his face in his neck and closing his eyes with an exhausted sigh.

Viktor wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his hair as they waited.

The doctor returned with a smile on his face and a piece of paper a few minutes later.

“Now we have the definite proof,” he said as he sat down again. “His wellborn is pregnant. Six or seven weeks, I think.”

Viktor smiled. “Did you hear that, my love?” He whispered, kissing Yuuri’s hair. “We’re indeed having a little one.”

Yuuri merely nodded.

The big excitement would come later.

“I’d suggest an ultrasound scan in maybe one or two weeks, when his wellborn is feeling a little better, and at a better equipped clinic in St. Petersburg,” the doctor continued. “There, they can run all the necessary tests.”

Viktor nodded. “But he’s feeling so terrible,” he said, his embrace becoming a little firmer, and Yuuri curled up further in his arms. “That cannot be normal. This can’t be morning sickness.”

The doctor smiled sympathetically. “It may be called morning sickness, Sir, but it does not care about the time of day in many cases. Your mate seems to have a rather uncomfortable case of it, though. But there is medication against that which he can take. The side effect is that it will make him tired, but I recommend rest for young omegas when they are in the early stages of pregnancy.” He turned to his computer and typed in a few things. “You may collect the medication at the pharmacy next door. Twice a day should be enough. Make sure that he eats at least a little today, perhaps some soup, but that he goes back to normal eating as soon as possible.”

Viktor nodded, determined to keep all of this in mind. No, he would not forget a single thing, he told himself and kissed Yuuri’s head. He would walk to the ends of earth if it only made Yuuri feel better.

“Is he the first pregnant omega in your care?” The doctor asked then, looking at Viktor expectantly.

Viktor nodded. “He is my first and only omega,” he said. He knew it was common for men in his position to have two or more omega in their ‘care’, as it was officially called, but he had never had the desire to have more. Yuuri was his mate, the other half of his heart and soul. No, he would never have another.

“Then you surely have many concerns,” the doctor concluded. “But I can assure you, your mate is a healthy young omega and will most likely have an entirely normal pregnancy. Do you know what to expect of the different stages?”

Viktor shook his head. “I… I read a few books about omega care but I never dared to touch those regarding pregnancy before it was time.”

The doctor nodded. “Omega are fragile creatures,” he said, leaning back in his chair, regarding Yuuri thoughtfully. “They are attached to their alphas, especially when their alpha is attached to them in return. This increases especially when they are pregnant for the first time. Hormones play a large part in that. But it is also the desire to stay safe, and to be protected by their alpha. To protect the unborn. What they crave the most in the first three or four months in pregnancy is physical contact in all forms. You can see how your mate wishes to be held by you already,” he added, smiling softly as Yuuri, now clearly asleep, buried his face further in Viktor’s neck. “That is a good sign. He trusts you to protect him and the child. Believe me, there is no sadder sight than a pregnant omega that has no alpha to whom they can turn to seek comfort.”

Viktor knew that only too well. He had seen how other alphas treat their mates, had seen their pregnant omega looking alone and lost, almost abandoned.

His Yuuri would never have to feel alone.

“His wellborn has a companion, correct?” The doctor asked.

Viktor nodded. “Yes. They are very close.”

“Good. His companion may take care of these physical needs as well, as you are unable to be with him at all times, of course. Your mate might sleep a lot, and start nesting at some point. Simply let him. His instincts will sooner or later tell him to practise for the big day.”

Yuuri shifted a little in his sleep, but did not wake up. Viktor could not wait for the day his mate would finally begin picking things for a nest, even if it was just a small one that he would destroy again. But this was what they had both been looking forward, was it not?

“I’ll do my best to support him,” Viktor said, running a hand through Yuuri’s hair. “Is there anything else I need to know? Anything I should, er… be careful with?”

The doctor chuckled. “You are a very attentive husband,” he said. “I suggest that you read the books you mentioned. Many of them are very helpful. But there is not much else that I could tell you. As your mate is a male omega, you should know that his stomach will not become as big as a woman’s. His frame is too small for that, and his anatomy too different. Also, his, ah, sexual appetite might increase or decrease. It is hard to say. But as long as both of you feel up to it, you may keep mating. Pleasure, may it take place through traditional intercourse or through stimulation by you or his companion, has very positive effects on both your mate and the baby.”

Viktor would have to speak to Phichit about all of this, and not just about the latter part. Phichit was a certified omega companion and had cared for pregnant omega before, during his training. He probably knew all of these things as well, and would be able to answer Viktor’s questions.

God, Viktor had never been happier about his decision to send for a companion for his jewel.

“We have waited for so long for this,” Viktor said quietly, looking down at his mate, whom he loved so much that it hurt. “He was so upset every month, every time he did a test and it was negative, and he had just… he had just come to terms with not having a child. We are quite overwhelmed.”

The doctor nodded sympathetically. “I understand that. In your mate’s culture, it is normal for omega to have at least one child before turning eighteen. He must have felt a lot of pressure.”

“You have no idea,” Viktor sighed. “I always told him it did not matter to me if we had children or not, but he always had the desire to become a mother, and I wanted to grant him this wish. It is so…” But he could not find the words for what he wanted to say, for the many things going through his head. It was hard to put his feelings into words, especially those particular feelings.

“You love your omega very much, Mr. Nikiforov,” the doctor said softly. “You don’t need to know more. And neither does your mate.”

Viktor’s heart felt lighter as he carried his sleeping Yuuri back to the car and put him down in the passenger seat before going to the pharmacy to pick up the medicine. When he returned, Yuuri was awake, blinking at him sleepily as Viktor started the motor.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he murmured. “Did I miss something…?”

Viktor shook his head and leant over, kissing Yuuri on the lips. “Only that our little one is in the very best hands.”

At that, Yuuri smiled, and it lit up Viktor’s entire world.

* * *

Back at home, Phichit watched in awe as an entirely lovestruck Viktor carried Yuuri back to bed and tucked him in, recreating some sort of nest for his mate to sleep in. It was an unusual thing for an alpha to do. Usually, they were useless at making nests, always getting it wrong and upsetting their mate. But Viktor somehow seemed to know what to do, and what pieces to pick that would delight his mate. And so, Phichit watched as Yuuri happily buried his nose in one of Viktor’s pillows and looked at his husband lovingly.

They truly were made for each other.

An order for soup was then sent to the kitchen, and Viktor pulled Phichit aside for a moment.

“I will need your help in the months to come,” the Pakhan said, scratching the back of his head. “I hope I can count on you.”

“Of course you can,” Phichit said, glancing at Yuuri who had drifted off to sleep again. “I have experience with pregnant omega. But I have to admit it’s the first time I’m caring for a friend, too.”

“I’m glad that you are friends,” Viktor said. “My Yuuri is hesitant about letting other people close to him. Let alone touch him. But I’m sure he couldn’t have a better companion than you. Especially in a time as difficult and exciting as his first pregnancy.”

Phichit blushed at the praise. “Let me congratulate you once more,” he said with a smile. “I’m very happy for both of you.”

Viktor smiled. “Thank you, Phichit. Now, my sister-in-law will arrive any minute, right?”

“I heard Chris say that she’ll be here just in time for lunch.”

“Perfect. I wonder how she will react to the news,” Viktor said, glancing at his watch. “I… I should go and speak with our guests. There is still some business to be done. Could you…”

Phichit nodded. “I’ll stay with him,” he said. “Just go. I’ll call you if needed.”

Viktor was clearly unwilling to go, but both of them knew that he had to.

The Pakhan patted Phichit’s shoulder. “You are a good man, Phichit,” he said. “I’m very grateful that you are here with us.”

The words stayed with Phichit even long after Viktor had walked out of the room and Phichit had taken his place at Yuuri’s side. It was not very often that the Pakhan openly thanked or complimented people, especially those that were beneath him.

But then again, an omega companion always had a rather peculiar position in any household.

A mafia family was not any different.

The medication that the doctor had prescribed Yuuri was one that Phichit knew well, and judging by the fact that the omega was sleeping peacefully and was not disturbed by attacks of nausea, it did seem to work. The side effect of it was that it made the omega tired, but sleep was recommended for the early weeks of pregnancy anyway. In that regard, Yuuri was truly a model student – giving his body time to adjust to the new life growing inside him.

Phichit sat down on the bed, careful not to destroy the makeshift nest Yuuri slept in, and put an arm around his friend to give him the physical contact he needed. Omega were peculiar creatures, he thought not for the first time. They were strong and fragile at the same time, passionate and vulnerable. They fought for their alpha and children and wept for them in deepest despair. They desired to be mothers and yet found themselves overwhelmed when they were blessed with it.

Yuuri was no exception. But Phichit would be at his side, just like Viktor, and guide him on his way. Phichit was sure that it would not be much that his friend would need.

For Yuuri was incredibly strong, much stronger than he thought.

It was around noon when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and a text from Chris appeared on the screen.

_Yuuri’s sister is here. I’ll show her upstairs and then fetch Viktor._

Phichit put his phone back into his pocket and withdrew from Yuuri carefully, not wanting to wake him, and then left the bedroom to go and meet his sister. He had heard of Mari Katsuki, of course, but never met her. He had seen the pictures on Yuuri’s desk and had heard his friend talk to her on the phone, but Phichit himself had never exchanged a word with the woman.

A woman that, as he had been told, was the most dangerous female alpha in the Asian world.

The woman that came into sight as he entered his office, however, did not appear like a ruthless killer to Phichit at all. She was tall, with short hair that she had dyed at some point, wearing jeans and a pullover. If anything, she looked like most women her age – one that did not particularly care about her appearance but still had her very own style.

One look at her face, however, was enough to tell Phichit that she and Yuuri were related.

“Katsuki-sama, this is Phichit Chulanont,” Chris said smoothly and Phichit bowed. “The companion of your brother.”

“Drop the honorific, I’m not my uncle,” Mari said, her accent a lot thicker than Yuuri’s as she spoke. Then, she turned to Phichit, holding out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Mari. Yuuri told me a lot about you. You are his friend?”

Phichit smiled. “I am,” he said in Japanese, about which Mari seemed surprised. “Well, we all are.”

“Yuuri does not make friends easily,” Mari said, raising an eyebrow. “But if you are all his friends, that’s good, I suppose.” She looked around. “Is he here?”

“He’s in bed, but he’ll be so happy to see you,” Phichit said.

Mari frowned. “Why is he in bed?” She asked. “Is he ill?”

Phichit exchanged a confused look with Chris, who seemed surprised as well.

“He’s not ill,” Phichit assured Mari. “He’s… ah, I think he’d like to tell you himself. I’ll show you the way.”

Leaving Chris behind, Phichit took Mari to Yuuri’s rooms and to the door of his bedroom, knocking softly before going in.

“Yuuri,” he hummed. “Look who’s here.”

Yuuri mumbled something under his breath, lifting his head sleepily and blinking his eyes open. “Mari,” he breathed, and began to smile wider than he had in a long time.

“Hello there,” Mari chuckled and approached the bed, kneeling on the mattress and pulling her brother into a hug. But then, she froze, sniffing the air. She pulled back, staring at him. “Oh my god, you’ve got one in the oven.”

Yuuri chuckled, blushing at her words. “Surprise.”

“Oh my god, Yuuri!” Mari squealed and hugged him tighter, both of them almost falling off the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I just found out last night!” Yuuri laughed, holding onto her. “Ask Phichit!”

“It’s true!” Phichit said with a laugh.

“Oh my god, Mama will be so happy,” Mari grinned. “I can’t believe it. My little brother is going to be a mother!”

Yuuri chuckled. “You should have seen Viktor. Ah, Phichit?” He looked at him. “Could you fetch him? If he’s free, of course.”

“Sure,” Phichit said and stepped outside to make the call.

On his phone was another message from Chris.

_You look stunning in that red shirt._

Phichit cleared his throat.

Ten minutes later, a rather excited Pakhan came through the doors, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at Phichit before entering the bedroom to face his sister-in-law. Phichit did try not to listen as the two were introduced to each other, but he could not help but be at least somewhat curious of what Mari would think of her brother’s mate. He got to see it on her face a few minutes later, when Viktor carried Yuuri out of the bedroom and to the large sofa in the living room. Mari followed them, her gaze fixed on the back of her brother’s husband, calculating, wondering.

Phichit knew what she was thinking, and even more so when Viktor kissed Yuuri right in front of her and then went to collect Yuuri’s favourite cushions for his mate to rest on.

Such dedication and devotion was unusual for an alpha. But even more touching.

“How long will you stay, nee-chan?” Yuuri asked, never taking his eyes off his sister, even with Viktor making a fuss about him.

“Two weeks,” Mari said. “At least that’s the plan.”

“Two weeks,” Yuuri whispered, and his eyes began to sparkle, undoubtedly thinking about all the things one could do together in two weeks. But then, there was disappointment on his face. “I’m sorry that I’m so useless when you come to visit me…”

“Oh, shut up,” Mari said, shaking her head. “I’ve come to spend time with you. I don’t care how. Okay?”

Yuuri nodded, reaching out to take his sister’s hand. “Thank you for coming, nee-chan. I… I missed you.”

Mari smiled, taking his hand in return. “I missed you, too.” Then, she looked at Viktor, and said in her very best English: “Can a woman not get a drink in her brother-in-law’s house?”

Both Phichit and Yuuri laughed, and even Viktor chuckled as he rose to get them some refreshments.

These were going to be two very interesting weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, children, we've officially gone on board of the MS Chuchumetti.


	15. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I have not been able to focus on writing a lot these days. I have to write a paper for university and sort some things out in my life. But at least I now have a therapy spot! Yay!
> 
> Back to Pre-Phichit and our favourite newlyweds :)

One night, after a particularly lonely weekend without his husband, Viktor took Yuuri to the ballet.

It had been a surprise for Yuuri to find an envelope addressed to himself on his desk, right on top of the book he was currently reading to improve his Russian. He had immediately noticed his husband’s elegant handwriting, and had opened the envelope curiously.

Inside had been two tickets to the ballet, and Yuuri had immediately rushed through the manor to get to Viktor and thank him personally.

The Pakhan’s men had looked away as the omega had thrown himself right into Viktor’s arms, for which Viktor had kissed his mate deeply in return. 

Yuuri felt the other people’s eyes on him as they stood in the foyer of the opera, in their hands glasses of champagne. Viktor had wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s waist, gently caressing his hip through the fabric of his dress, and Yuuri found himself turning his body towards Viktor more and more, seeking his warmth and comfort. Viktor was the only reason he was not afraid of being in public, of being seen by others. People knew who they were, and they were wise enough not to approach them.

Yuuri was sure that Viktor would not have let any of them get close to him.

But at Viktor’s side, he felt safe, and was actually able to enjoy his surroundings. The opera was a beautiful building, a relic of bygone times that spoke of the magnificence of the Tsars. Viktor seemed to blend in just right with his silver hair, his beautiful face, and the bespoke suit that he wore. Yuuri had put on one of the many evening gowns for the occasion; a simple blue dress with a high collar and silver embroidery around his waist, hugging the gentle swell of his belly just right.

Viktor had expressed his delight about this particular feature the most.

The intermission was just long enough to get to the toilet and have a drink without having to rush. Viktor had not even had to leave Yuuri alone to get them something to drink – waiters would come to them. Other people had to queue for champagne, but it seemed that Viktor’s mere presence was enough to make even ordinary people forget about the rules.

“Have I already told you how stunning you look tonight, my jewel?” Viktor purred into Yuuri’s ear, gently squeezing his waist.

Yuuri looked up at him through his eyelashes, leaning closer to whisper into his ear. “Seven times already.”

Viktor chuckled lowly. “Your beauty enchants me so,” he whispered back. “I cannot wait to have you later tonight. Splayed out before me on our bed… your dark hair against the white sheets… your beautiful body all to myself, only for me to enjoy and worship…”

Yuuri shivered at those words, feeling the arousal pool in his lower belly already, and he was sure Viktor could smell it. The undeniable scent of an omega’s desire.

“I have so many plans for us tonight, my darling,” Viktor continued to whisper into his ear, his breath hot against Yuuri’s skin. “I will kiss your thighs and leave my love marks there… I will drink the sweetest essences from you and make you sing…”

“V-Viktor…” Yuuri breathed, feeling his knees almost go weak at Viktor’s fantasies. “We’re in public…”

“Let them smell your desire, my jewel,” Viktor murmured, pressing a gentle, yet firm kiss to Yuuri’s neck. “Let them know that you are mine. And mine alone.”

There it was again, the tone of voice that Viktor sometimes used. Each time, it sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine, and he was not sure whether that was good or bad. All alphas were possessive, he knew that, unwilling to share their favourite omega. Since he was Viktor’s only omega, he was even more possessive than normal. Most of the time, Yuuri did not mind, for he knew that Viktor loved him, and only wanted to protect him.

Sometimes, however, it reminded him a tad too much of different times.

Yuuri moved closer to Viktor, hiding his face in his husband’s chest. “I’ll always be yours, Vitya,” he whispered. “For now, and forever.”

He could hear the soft growl of his husband, that sound of reassurance that let him know that Viktor knew, that Viktor understood. It would only ever be them. No one would ever stand between them.

“I believe the intermission will be over any minute now,” Viktor said quietly. “Shall we go back to our seats?”

Yuuri nodded.

They went back to their private box and took their seats, Yuuri crossing his legs as he picked up his opera glasses with one hand and leaving the other to rest on Viktor’s thigh. Holding hand in the dark always felt special, but even more so in a public space, Yuuri found. The lights went out and the music began, and as the dancers filled the stage, he forgot everything else around them.

Only Viktor remained present in his mind.

That, and his very first memory of a ballet.

He had been but a small boy, aged five or six, and he had watched a ballet on television with his mother. The days that had followed, he had danced every minute, pretending to be the dancer he had seen on television. He had raised his arms, had lifted his leg and had tried to stand on his toes, losing himself in the childish imaginations of a boy that knew little of the world but knew he longed for more.

His father had found him them, catching him in his arms. He had laughed as he had hugged and kissed Yuuri, wanting to know what he was doing. When Yuuri had told him that he wanted to be a ballet dancer, his father had not laughed at him.

Instead, he had looked for a teacher.

He had always supported Yuuri’s dreams.

When he had died, Yuuri had been devastated.

“Yuuri?”

The voice of his husband finally came through to him, causing the omega to look up. Viktor was looking at him worriedly.

“You are crying, my love,” Viktor said quietly.

“Huh?”

Only as Yuuri brought his hand up to his cheek, he noticed the tears. “Oh…”

Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand. “Do you want to talk about it, my sweet?”

Yuuri quickly wiped the tears away. “I just… I just thought about my father,” he murmured.

Viktor said nothing, merely looking at him, waiting, giving him time to continue if he liked.

“My father was the one who found my first ballet instructor for me,” Yuuri explained. “He always came to my lessons when he was home, to watch me dance. He always told me how proud he was that I was so good at dancing…” Yuuri swallowed thickly. “I just realised how much I miss him. That’s all.”

Yuuri had not meant to cry before his husband, or burden him with his grief. It had never truly left him, regardless of his young age at the time of his father’s passing. He was still very much his son. And he missed him terribly, every single day.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to ruin our evening.”

“You didn’t ruin our evening, love,” Viktor said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Yuuri’s hand. “I feel very honoured that you share your emotions with me and let me know of your pain. I wish I could simply kiss it away. Of course I know it is not that easy.”

On the stage, the dancers did a particularly stunning figure, causing the audience to gasp, but Yuuri could not have cared less. He was dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief Viktor had produced seemingly out of nowhere.

“But if there is anything that I can do,” Viktor continued, “then let me know.”

Yuuri folded the handkerchief neatly on his lap, not sure where to put it. “Can I sit on your lap?” He asked quietly.

Viktor smiled. “Come here.”

In the dark theatre, no one could see what they were doing in their box, for which Yuuri was rather grateful. It would have surely caused a scandal to see the Pakhan with his omega in his lap in such a place. Not that Viktor would have cared. No, Viktor would have surely only laughed about the headlines that would follow in the papers. But in the dark, they were safe from prying eyes, and Yuuri settled on his husband’s lap, resting his head against Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s hair, and they continued to watch the performance.

Yuuri was crying again when the lights were turned on again, but this time, it was because he was incredibly moved by the audience.

“So beautiful,” he breathed as he applauded together with the rest of the audience. “That was amazing!”

Viktor chuckled and stood beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Would you like to meet the dancers?”

Yuuri stared at him in shock. “I c-couldn’t… no, I possibly couldn’t—” His mind was spinning already, oh god, what could he possibly say to such accomplished dancers? He was no one, after all, and these dancers were the finest of their generation!

“It’s alright, my jewel,” Viktor said softly and kissed his temple. “We don’t have to. But I want you to know that such a thing is easy to arrange.”

Yuuri managed to nod. “Thank you, Viktor,” he said softly, looking down at the stage again, still applauding the dancers. They looked so confident, he thought. So sure of themselves, in everything they did.

How he wished to be like them.

“Would you like to go for another drink, love?” Viktor asked when the curtain fell for good, and the people in the audience moved towards the exit. “Or would you like to go home?”

Yuuri was about to say that he wanted to go home, but they hardly ever got to leave the manor together these days. If they went home now, their evening, which had been so incredibly nice so far, would be over.

“Let us go for drinks,” Yuuri said and linked his arm with Viktor’s. “I want to spend more time with you. Talk to you.”

Viktor seemed surprised at first, but then, he began to smile happily. “Your wish is my command,” he said and kissed Yuuri gently.

They left their box together and picked up their coats from the cloakroom. Yuuri whispered a thankyou as Viktor helped him into his fur coat, a piece of clothing that probably cost more than the jewellery most women wore here. The first time Yuuri had worn the coat, he had been terribly afraid of getting it dirty, but now, he wore it with pride. After all, it had been a gift of his husband, and Yuuri knew how much Viktor enjoyed seeing him in expensive things.

Their car was waiting for them outside the theatre, including a few photographers that were eager to take a picture of the Pakhan’s mate, but the way that Viktor shielded him made any attempt of taking a picture a useless one. They quickly got into the car and Viktor told the driver to take them to a place whose name Yuuri did not know. They drove off, leaving the photographers behind.

“I wonder how you do it,” Yuuri said to Viktor, taking his hand. “All those people whenever you go to the public as the CEO of Eros&Agape. I would probably run away.”

Viktor sighed heavily, squeezing his hand. “Believe me, my jewel. I want to run away from them all the time. But all of this… this life,” he gestured broadly with his hand. “It does come with a certain cost. And I’d rather bear it than drag you into it, my sweet. I’ve been used to it all my life now.”

Yuuri could see how much Viktor hated that very fact – he had known it from the very beginning, when Viktor had first told him about not wanting to be the Pakhan. But neither of them had any choice in the matter. It was all a question of their birth.

“If it ever becomes too much for us,” Yuuri said, putting his hand on Viktor’s chest and leaning in to kiss his jaw, “we’ll simply fake our deaths and run away from it all. Live comfortably on the other side of the world. In a tiny apartment in a huge city where no one knows us.”

Viktor sighed heavily and pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s hair, rubbing his mate’s back soothingly. “If we only could,” he murmured. “That would be wonderful.”

Of course, they both knew that it was just a fantasy that they could privately indulge in. It would never become reality. Not in their world. Not with their families. They would forever be stuck in this life, keep up the façade. They could only try to make the best of it.

The rooftop bar they went to was one of the most stunning places Yuuri had ever been to. He could not stop staring as they took their seats in armchairs by the large windows that offered a stunning view of St. Petersburg at night.

“Breathtaking, is it not?” Viktor asked and then turned to the waiter, ordering two glasses of wine.

“Beautiful,” Yuuri whispered, sitting down in his armchair beside Viktor. “Do you… do you come here often?”

“I used to,” Viktor replied with a shrug. “With Chris, usually, after work. To clear our heads. But we never went to a private booth like this one.”

A minute later, the waiter returned with their wine, placing their glasses on the small table before them before he left again.

Viktor took their glasses, handing one to Yuuri. “To a wonderful evening with my beautiful mate,” he said, raising his glass a little. “Without whom I cannot imagine living anymore.”

Yuuri blushed deeply, and he cast down his eyes. “T-To you, my most beloved husband,” he whispered. Their glasses clinked and they took a sip, the taste of the wine enchanting their senses. Yuuri had never been too fond of wine, but he liked to enjoy a glass every now and then, when he was with Viktor.

“You are wearing the sapphire ring,” Viktor said softly, taking Yuuri’s left hand and running his thumb over the jewel.

Yuuri looked down at his hand, at his engagement ring. It was a beautiful piece indeed, and Yuuri liked it very much. But not just because it was beautiful.

“It’s the first gift you ever gave me,” Yuuri said softly, intertwining their fingers gently. “It is my most favourite piece of them all. I like how… how simple yet elegant it is. It reminds me of you.”

Viktor smiled. “This ring used to be my mother’s,” he said.

“Really?” Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise. “It… it was your mother’s ring?”

Viktor nodded. “I have no memory of her, as you know. She died when I was very little. But this is the ring my father gifted her when they became engaged, and he loved her more than anything else. I had this ring for such a long time and I wanted to give it to someone I would love as much as my father loved my mother.” He smiled at Yuuri, bringing his hand to his lips and kissing it. “And when I saw you, I knew that I had found that person.”

“Viktor…” Yuuri whispered, deeply moved by his husband’s words. Viktor rarely talked about his family, especially not about his parents. He and his father had never had the best relationship, but they had respected each other. More Yuuri did not know.

“And this is why it makes me incredibly happy to see you wearing this ring, my love,” Viktor said, gently holding Yuuri’s hand. “It tells me how lucky I am to have you at my side. That the one thing my father ever advised me to do came true.”

“What… what did he tell you?” Yuuri asked softly.

Viktor was quiet for a moment, his thumb caressing Yuuri’s knuckles ever so gently as he seemed to think back to bygone times. “He told me to find love,” he said softly. “To find love, and to keep it. And that I did. In you.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at that, looking down at their joined hands. Viktor often said the most beautiful things, and always meant every single word. This time was no exception. Yuuri knew that.

“Your father sounds like a wise man,” he said. “I would have loved to meet him. Do you think he would have liked me?”

Viktor hummed thoughtfully. “I think he would have found you very interesting,” he said. “Because you are not like most omega. Neither was my mother, I’ve been told. She was proud of who she was. I wish…” He sighed. “I wish I had known her.”

Yuuri moved a little closer to his husband, their knees touching. Viktor had lost his mother when he had been small, and naturally, he had no memories of her.

No boy should have to grow up without a mother, Yuuri thought.

“I wish you would not feel this pain, my love,” Yuuri said, and this time, it was his turn to take Viktor’s hand and hold it for comfort. “And while you did not have a mother… you had a father of whom you always speak so highly. I wish I had known him. But if he was anything like you, then he was surely a good man.”

Viktor chuckled, shaking his head. “My father was nothing like me, my jewel.”

“Then what was he like?” Yuuri asked. “You have never told me about him in greater detail and… I would like to know more about him and about your childhood. If you don’t mind, that is,” Yuuri added quickly, not wanting his husband to think he had to tell him. But Viktor merely smiled.

“My father was not exactly a good man,” he said. “No Pakhan ever is, I believe. But he tried to be just. He rewarded loyalty. He cared for his people. I remember when one of his bodyguards got married and his wife had a daughter who needed medical treatment. Expensive treatment. He paid all of it. He told me that this was important, that this is how you keep people’s loyalty. But he did a lot of things like that without having to. I think he… he kind of liked helping people.”

That was something that reminded Yuuri very much of Viktor – his husband helped the people that worked for him, too. And he never expected anything in return.

“What was he like as a father?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor leant back in his armchair with a sigh, looking out of the window and watching the lights of St. Petersburg for a while, lost in his thoughts. The last thing Yuuri wanted was to bring back bad memories, and he opened his mouth to tell Viktor it was not important, but before he could say a word, Viktor was speaking again.

“I think my father tried his best. He certainly did not think he would have to raise a son on his own. Sending me to boarding school was the best for both of us in that situation.”

Viktor never spoke of his time at boarding school – Yuuri merely knew that he had been to one, but had never dared to ask Viktor about it. It did not seem to be a part of his past that Viktor was particularly fond of.

“Don’t get me wrong, the school was good,” Viktor said, looking back at Yuuri. “I met Chris there. But whilst my friends went home to loving families and got to spend time with their parents, my father and I spent so little time together that we barely knew what to… what to say to each other. He tried to be a good father, of course, got me everything I wanted and took me hunting and showed me parts of the business once I was old enough.” Viktor grabbed his wine and took a small sip, as if he had to soothe himself. “I had wanted an ordinary home so many times. I mean… I got it in the end. With you.” At that, he gave Yuuri a smile, and Yuuri saw the man that he loved in it – but he could also see Viktor’s pain, could see the boy that Viktor had once been. Motherless, and with a father that had tried to do his best but had failed nonetheless.

“I have the happiest life with you,” Viktor said, firmer this time, and he intertwined his finger’s with Yuuri’s. “And I have accepted my life as Pakhan, and that this particular life will never be ordinary. But, if you allow, I want a life as ordinary as possible for our children.”

“Of course, Viktor!” Yuuri exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sound of Viktor’s voice, at the hesitation in it – as if his husband were asking something impossible of him. “Viktor, our… our children will have a loving home, and even more loving parents. We will send them to the best schools and celebrate their birthdays and go on holiday with them. We will hug and kiss them and read them stories, and… and we will be there for them, no matter what. We’ll have the happiest of families. I promise you that.”

Yuuri leant down and kissed Viktor’s palm, the sweetest of gestures of an omega to their alpha; a gesture of love, devotion, and reassurance. Never before had he seen Viktor so upset about something personal, never had Viktor seemed so lost. No, Viktor always seemed so confident, always strong and proud, a leader in everything. He rarely showed his vulnerable side, or his worries.

That was the reason each alpha yearned for an omega. Someone to not only keep them company, bear them children and satisfy their desires, but also to soothe the heart. To reassure them that the world was good, even if it was not.

“Can you believe me that, my love?” Yuuri asked softly, looking up at his husband through his eyelashes. “We will live the most extraordinary life that is so ordinary that we will want another adventure.”

At that, Viktor began to laugh, and he cupped Yuuri’s cheek gently. That was the sound Yuuri had wanted to hear, and it made his heart soar.

“I love you so, so very much, my jewel,” Viktor said softly and kissed him tenderly on the lips. “With you, I am the most happy.”

Yuuri smiled. “Then let us go and be happy in our own home.”

Viktor chuckled, now being the one to kiss Yuuri’s palm. “Going home has never sounded so wonderful.”

* * *

A very happy Makkachin greeted them upon returning to the manor, but neither Viktor nor Yuuri had the patience to give her more than just a few pats to the head before they retreated to their bedroom. They shut the door and immediately found themselves in each other’s arms, hungry kisses on each other’s lips, hands on their bodies, tugging on clothes and trying to get rid of them.

“The dress is one I’m rather fond of,” Yuuri breathed against Viktor’s mouth as his husband kept tugging. “Don’t you dare destroy it.”

At that, Viktor growled but obeyed, his hands searching for the zip instead. In an instant, he pulled it down, and with it the dress, the cool air hitting Yuuri’s skin as the dress fell to the floor. It would be forgotten there, until the next morning when Yulia or another maid would pick it up.

“You are so beautiful, my jewel,” Viktor whispered as he looked at Yuuri in the warm light of the bedside lamp, his skin like porcelain, his hair so incredibly dark and the most beautiful contrast. And there, on his cheeks, the slightest shade of pink.

Yuuri smiled and closed the small distance between them, wrapping an arm around Viktor’s neck and playing with the button of Viktor’s shirt. “I thought you had so many plans for us tonight,” he whispered into Viktor’s ear, hearing the deep growl coming from his husband’s chest in return. Before he knew it, he found himself in Viktor’s arms, and he laughed as Viktor almost threw him onto the bed. And then, he was over him, taking off his shirt and pushing down his trousers together with his underwear. He threw them aside, the belt of his trousers loudly hitting the chair in the corner, but neither of them could have cared.

“My jewel,” Viktor whispered, hungrily kissing down Yuuri’s chest, over his stomach to his hips. “My most precious jewel, let me worship you…”

Yuuri closed his eyes, moaning softly as Viktor’s kisses left burning traces on his skin. “Viktor… oh, yes, there… there…” He gasped as Viktor kissed down his thighs, sucking on his skin, leaving the most beautiful marks there. Over the course of the previous months, Viktor had left so many love bites on his skin, proof of his love and devotion that Yuuri carried with the greatest pride.

“AH!” Yuuri arched his back and grabbed his husband’s hair as Viktor kissed him _there_ , his tongue pushing into him. “Oh my God, Viktor, Viktor, Viktor…”

The sounds that came from the Pakhan’s bedchamber that night were the talk of the servants the following morning. Some whispered that the Pakhan had enjoyed his mate for four hours without end, that the omega had screamed so loud that he had surely lost his voice for at least a few days. Others were sure that after such an intensive mating, it was only a question of a few months before the cries of a baby would fill these halls.

Oh, how delightful that would be – that they could all agree on.

Yes, that was the right course of things, the natural calling for an omega, the servants said to themselves as they came to bring the omega breakfast the following morning, and the morning after, and also the morning after that. At some point, the omega had begun taking his breakfast in bed, Yulia always being the one to bring it to him. Some said that the always silent omega even talked to Yulia behind closed doors, when no one else was there. But Yulia never spoke of the conversations that she apparently had with the Pakhan’s mate, no matter how often they tried to get some information from her.

But Yulia had soon become almost like a confidante to Yuuri, and he felt comfortable enough around her to speak with her. She was a gentle soul, and so wonderfully ordinary.

“Is Mr Nikiforov not here today?” Yulia asked him one morning when she brought him breakfast, the omega sitting up in bed properly and reaching for the tea. “I saw him leaving the manor rather early.”

“My husband has some business to attend to in Moscow,” Yuuri explained after taking a sip of the Japanese green tea that Yulia had learnt to brew so perfectly for him by now. “He will be gone for… a day or two, I think. He said it’s incredibly important. He got the call in the middle of the night.” Yuuri put the cup down on the tray and reached for the plate with toast and butter. “That must mean it’s truly important, right?”

He looked at Yulia, who hummed thoughtfully.

“Mr Nikiforov has left in the middle of the night so many times before,” she said. “But he never waited to leave in the morning.” She smiled at Yuuri as she picked up one of the pillows that had fallen out of bed during the night. “A man does not like leaving his love alone and cold.”

Yuuri blushed at that. “Is your husband like that, too?”

“Oh, yes,” Yulia nodded. “Well, at least my current husband is. My first husband was nothing like that. That man! Ah!” She shook her head in disbelief. “That divorce was the best thing I have ever done.”

Yuuri chuckled with her, eating his toast while Yulia tidied up around him.

“Do you have any plans for today, your wellborn?” She asked him. “The weather is really nice today.”

Yuuri glanced at the window, seeing that she was right. “Maybe I will take Makkachin out for a walk,” he said. “She is getting restless these days. Although she is an old lady. Where is she anyway?”

“She’s been resting on the sofa,” Yulia said. “Do you want me to let her in?”

“Yes, please,” Yuuri nodded and set the tray aside as a precaution as Yulia opened the door and called for Makkachin. A happy, loud bark followed, and Yuuri could hear the sound of paws on the wooden floor before Makkachin burst into the room and jumped onto the bed.

“Hello, Makka,” Yuuri laughed and hugged the dog, ruffling his fur. “Do you want to go out today? Hm? Dig a hole in the garden?”

Makkachin barked and wagged her tail happily, and Yuuri had his answer.

“Yulia,” he said, looking at the maid over the dog’s head. “Could you get me something to wear in the garden?

Half an hour later, Yuuri found himself in the midst of the manor’s garden with Makkachin at his side, the dog barking and jumping around in sheer joy. Makkachin had always been a happy dog, and Yuuri loved going out with her. The gardens were always perfect for a walk, and it was a place where Yuuri could relax and enjoy nature. At home in Japan, he had always enjoyed going to the gardens of the estate, but had never been allowed to be there for long, and never on his own. His mother or Mari had always come with him, almost like a chaperone. Walking alone in the garden felt strange, but at least he had Makkachin with him.

Makkachin then seemed to spot something on the grass, and she ran off to get it, returning a moment later with her beloved pink ball between her teeth.

“Do you want me to throw it, Makka?” Yuuri asked and knelt down before her, taking the ball. “Yes?” Makkachin wagged her tail expectantly, watching the ball with wide eyes. The moment Yuuri threw it she ran off, much faster than most dogs her age would have been, chasing after the ball she loved so much. She caught it with ease, rolling around on the grass like a puppy with the ball between her teeth before jumping up again and returning to Yuuri, eager and ready for another round.

“Good girl!” Yuuri smiled and patted her head. “Let’s throw it again, yes?”

Makkachin barked, jumping up and down before him as Yuuri threw the ball again. She ran faster than ever before, bursting right through the bushes and leaving behind a path of destruction.

“Makka, no!” Yuuri laughed and followed her, shaking his head. “Makka, the poor gardeners!”

He wrapped his shawl tighter around his neck, following Makkachin around the corner behind the bushes. “Makka, we cannot destroy the bushes just because of your ball!”

But it was not Makkachin that waited for him on the other side of the hedge.

A man stood there, dressed in black, with a face that Yuuri had never seen before. His eyes were fixed on something blue to his feet – another ball of Makkachin, one of her less favourite toys that they had left behind a few days ago.

Yuuri froze on the spot.

The man looked up, apparently only then noticing Yuuri. Upon realising who he was, the man began to grin.

“The Pakhan’s dog ran right past me,” he said in accentuated English. “It is good to send me here, I told my boss. They know me. They won’t stop me. That’s why the dog don’t bark.”

He kicked the ball out of the way and slowly walked towards Yuuri.

“It is a simple job,” he said, reaching into his jacket. “Wait until the Pakhan is gone, then go and get it done. Get the whore out of the way. Japanese whore, right? I don’t know what you are. You have slit eyes. You all look the same to me.” He shrugged and pulled a gun out of his jacket, pointing it at Yuuri. “And I-“

Something hard hit Yuuri’s shoulder and threw him to the ground, followed by a single, calculated gunshot. Yuuri screamed, squeezing his eyes shut.

From afar, he could hear Makkachin bark.

There were voices, so many voices all of a sudden. Men, women, shouting at each other in Russian and English, hands grabbing at him, pulling him up, but Yuuri could not move. There was Makkachin, barking at him, whining when he did not answer.

Someone was carrying him, a beta, judging by his scent. A guard, most likely.

Not Viktor.

Viktor was not here.

Viktor.

He needed Viktor.

Suddenly, the air was warm around him again. There was something soft beneath him, a cushion, perhaps, and a blanket on top of him to keep him warm. There was someone beside him, a hand on his shoulder, the voice of a woman. Lilia.

Then, there was angry shouting.

Yuri.

A deep, calm voice.

Otabek, his new bodyguard.

“Someone has to call the Pakhan.”

“I don’t know if-“

“Are you fucking blind? My brother’s mate almost got killed! FIND MY FUCKING BROTHER BEFORE I FIND THE WEAK SPOT IN YOUR SYSTEM!”

“Yuri, don’t shout!”

“Yuri, you should calm down…”

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?!”

A hand on his forehead.

“He’s in shock.”

“Do you need us to get the doctor, Ma’am?”

“Please, Otabek. And when you are done, change into something else. He shouldn’t see the blood.”

Something soft against his side. A whine.

Makkachin.

“She knew him. That’s why she didn’t attack him.”

“We all knew him, Ma’am. He…”

“I know. We cannot change it now. We must leave this to the Pakhan. See to it that these chambers are constantly guarded.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Yuri, you either sit down or you leave.”

The world went dark.


	16. Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know.   
> It's been a month.  
> The last four weeks have been absolute madness, and I am pretty sure it's the same for most of you.   
> But a new chapter?  
> In *this* pandemic?
> 
> I've had massive writer's block that I just managed to end yesterday. But I have good news. I'll take part in YOI Regency Week (yoiregencyweek.tumblr.com) and I've got something nice and dark and sexy planned for you 👀 
> 
> But first: news from the Pakhan and his queen, and there is something going on...

There were quite a few things that Mari already knew about Yuuri’s life in Russia.

For example, the story of his personal guard, Otabek Altin.

He used to fight his way through life on the streets of St. Petersburg. Like many others, he slept wherever it was warm, ate whatever he could get. He sold drugs, never took any of them. He got jobs here and there, most people not trusting him because he was young, and ‘just a beta’.

Mari knew that Otabek cared very little.

And then, one night, he had walked behind a guy that had seemed suspicious from the very beginning. His suspicions proved to be true when the guy pulled out a gun and aimed at someone across the street.

Otabek, hardened from life on the street, had taken the man down out of sheer instinct.

With that, he had saved the life of the man across the street.

Little had he known, Yuuri had told Mari, about the man he had saved that day. But the man approached him, walking almost casually towards him, as if he had not been about to get shot. His hair had been silver, and his eyes a bright blue. His suit had looked like it cost more than all the money Otabek had ever made by selling cocaine or ecstasy.

The man had offered him his hand, and had pulled him to his feet, and had asked him for his name.

And then, with a smile, he had introduced himself as Viktor Nikiforov, and had offered him a job as a guard on his estate.

Otabek had accepted on the spot.

Everyone knew who Viktor Nikiforov was.

That, Yuuri had said, had been the day Otabek had joined the Bratva, and become a guard. And then, after the fateful incident with the assassin, Otabek had been promoted once more. He had become Yuuri’s personal guard, one of the people closest to him, and that alone was a great honour. 

It was because of this privilege that Otabek was here, with them, although Mari found his presence slightly distracting. She was not used to having guards around even in one’s private rooms.

They were in the winter garden – the Pakhan, Yuuri, and herself. Mari watched her younger brother like a hawk, at the same time slightly amused about how much of a fuss the Pakhan was making over his mate because of Yuuri’s current state. It reminded her a little of how their father had been, all those years ago, when their mother had been pregnant with Yuuri.

“Are you warm enough, my jewel?” Viktor asked worriedly, readjusting the blanket that covered Yuuri’s lap. “Do you want another quilt?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Yuuri said softly.

“Perhaps you should drink something warmer, tea, perhaps,” Viktor said and called for the maid before the omega could even reply.

Behind them, Mari could hear Otabek chuckle.

“Is he always like that?” she asked Yuuri in Japanese as Viktor went next door for a moment to grab a mug.

“Not quite,” Yuuri replied, hugging the dog whose head was resting on his lap. “He is just worried and as overwhelmed by this new situation as I am.” He yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry…”

A moment later, Viktor returned, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. The mug had a terribly cheesy dog pattern, and seemed handmade, even. “Here, my jewel,” he said, sitting down beside Yuuri and giving him the cup. “It will warm you from the inside.”

“Thank you, love,” Yuuri said softly and accepted the cup, taking a small sip. Mari was fairly sure that her brother was neither cold nor thirsty, but that Yuuri always played along if it only meant to keep the Pakhan happy.

“We have excellent Japanese tea here,” Viktor told his sister-in-law. “Yuuri prefers it over Russian tea. Right, my jewel?”

Yuuri gave him a look. “You put marmalade into your tea, Vitya,” he said in a slightly accusing tone. “That cannot be normal.”

“I agree,” Mari said, eyeing the Pakhan cautiously, as if she were still not trusting him.

Viktor laughed. “Well, it is a Russian custom. Right, Otabek?”

Otabek nodded as everyone looked at him.

“Why is he here?” Mari asked, looking at her brother-in-law. “Why have a guard so close to Yuuri, even in his private chambers? Is this not a safe place for my brother?”

“Just an old habit,” Yuuri assured her and Viktor gave Otabek a brief nod.

Otabek bowed his head and left the winter garden without another word.

Once the door closed behind him, Mari muttered: “Does he always stare like that?”

Yuuri chuckled, leaning against Viktor. “That’s just his face,” he said and took another sip from the tea. “But he’s a nice person.”

“And we owe him a lot, don’t we, darling?” Viktor smiled, kissing Yuuri’s hair before turning to Mari to explain: “Otabek is the one who protected my Yuuri from the assassin two years ago.”

“I know,” Mari said. “That was a shocking incident to both me and our mother. We wondered if you were able to protect Yuuri.” Something in her voice made very clear that she still doubted Viktor’s ability to keep Yuuri safe – at least to some extent.

“He has and always will protect me, nee-chan,” Yuuri said before he yawned softly, bringing his hand up to his mouth. “Sorry…”

“Don’t apologise, my sweet,” Viktor hummed and nuzzled his hair. “Do you want to lie down for a while?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Want to stay with Mari,” he murmured, but both Viktor and Mari could already hear how sleepy he was.

“Alright, my jewel,” Viktor whispered, putting an arm around Yuuri so that his mate could curl up against his chest. It seemed that Viktor was aware of how stubborn Yuuri could be, and how difficult to handle he sometimes was, especially when he was tired. Mari knew it well enough herself.

She couldn’t even imagine how tired the medication was probably making him.

“I’m having the tea imported from the seller that your mother suggested,” Viktor said to Mari whilst playing with Yuuri’s hair in a soothing manner, and she was sure to hear her brother purr. “I have to say that her advice has never been wrong so far. The tea is excellent. My Yuuri drinks a cup every morning. But I am more of a coffee person. Right, dear?”

“Mhm,” Yuuri agreed quietly, now resting his head against Viktor’s chest, his eyes closed. “You drink too much coffee…”

Viktor chuckled. “Quite right,” he said. “I’ve had my secretary replace the coffee machine with water bottles and a bowl of fruit. Before Yuuri, I lived off coffee and tea biscuits for days. But my jewel looks so well after me.” He looked down at Yuuri with such adoration in his eyes that Mari wanted to puke into her drink.

But she pulled herself together, for Yuuri’s sake.

“When we were in New York, it was so hard to get decent tea,” Viktor sighed. “It was like one big conspiracy. The hotel we were staying at only offered this terribly disgusting ‘leaf water’, that is what it was. It was a poor excuse of tea, right, darling?”

Yuuri didn’t reply, not even when Viktor squeezed his arm gently. No, the omega had fallen asleep in his alpha’s arms, his chest rising and falling evenly.

Viktor laughed quietly, then lowered his head to press a tender, loving kiss to Yuuri’s forehead. “The medication makes him tired,” he said quietly. “But I’d rather see him sleeping than feeling so ill…”

Mari could see the pain on the other alpha’s face. It was genuine, she realised, not the faked concern that many others would have shown in such a situation. He reacted just the way Yuuri had always said he would. And the way Yuuri leant into his touch, how relaxed he was in his company, told Mari that this was not just for show.

Nonetheless, she could not help but feel a little unsure about the alpha. Perhaps that was the curse of having an omega sibling. One wanted to protect them, even if they belonged to another alpha.

“Yuuri said you found out just yesterday,” Mari said. “That he’s pregnant, I mean.”

Viktor nodded, looking up at her. “Yes. We called for a doctor right away when he started throwing up. He had tried to stay strong for me and force himself through the evening.” Viktor sighed, looking down at his sleeping mate. “He always tries to be strong, even if he does not feel like it. I have always admired that in him.”

“Yuuri is rather stubborn,” Mari replied, thinking back to the days of their childhood. “My mother advised him to hide this side of his, for the sake of his own safety. Stubborn, headstrong omega don’t have it easy in Japan.”

“So I’ve heard,” Viktor agreed. “But I wouldn’t want my Yuuri to be different. I want him to be the person that he is. I accept him the way he is, and he accepts me the way I am. And I’m very grateful for that.” He smiled, although it seemed not quite a happy one. “I’m not the easiest person to live with,” he told Mari. “But in Yuuri, I have found the perfect mate.”

Mari took a sip of her drink. “You know,” she said, fixating him with her eyes, “this all does sound too good to be true. I’m sorry. Maybe I am paranoid. But this perfectly happy little bubble that you and Yuuri have here. It feels wrong. I can’t help it, Nikiforov, but I don’t trust you. How can I know that you are treating my brother well when I’m not here? No, I’m not done yet,” she said sharply when Viktor opened his mouth in protest. “I know my brother. He would never tell me if he were unhappy. That’s how he has been raised. How can I know, then, that you are still treating him well behind closed doors? That he’s not homesick? That he…” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Viktor was quiet for a long moment.

Yuuri stirred in his arms, still asleep, his hands curled into fists, holding onto Viktor’s cashmere pullover.

“I am sorry that you think like this,” Viktor said slowly, and it took Mari a terribly long moment to realise that the Pakhan was speaking Japanese. “You cannot know. That is true. But I love Yuuri. And Yuuri loves me.”

Mari frowned, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I love him so much that I have started learning Japanese,” Viktor said, his speech slow and accentuated and yes, with some mistakes, but well enough. “He does not know. It’s a surprise.”

“Or a means to spy on him when he’s talking on the phone,” Mari gave back in English.

Viktor frowned. “I would never do that,” he said, returning to English as well.

“How can I know?”

“You can’t, and I wish there was a way to prove to you that I am serious.” Viktor sighed heavily.

Just as Mari was about to reply, Yuuri shifted on Viktor’s lap and let out a soft groan, a clear sign of discomfort.

Viktor was alarmed in an instant. „My jewel? Are you alright?” He asked worriedly, cupping Yuuri’s cheek.

“Just… my neck,” Yuuri mumbled sleepily, tilting his head to the side just a little. “Wrong angle…”

“Perhaps you should lie down in bed, my love,” Viktor said, his hand moving down to Yuuri’s neck to feel for any tense muscles. “Mari surely won’t mind.”

“I’ll be here for two weeks,” Mari confirmed. “You should lie down.”

It was obvious that Yuuri was unwilling to part from his sister just to take a nap, but he was so tired that he did not protest. Instead, he gave a defeated nod, and closed his eyes again.

“Let’s take you to bed, hm?” Viktor said and scooped Yuuri up into his arms, rising with him as if the additional weight did not bother him at all. “Makka will keep you company. Right, Makka?”

The brown poodle jumped off the couch and wagged her tail, following them obediently as they left the winter garden and made their way back to the apartment on the upper floor. Mari stayed silent the whole time, keeping a watchful eye on her brother and her brother-in-law as they reached the bedroom. Viktor was incredibly careful as he put Yuuri down on the bed, tucking him in with the greatest care and sitting at his side for a moment, even, just to stroke his hair and kiss him.

“I’ll be in your dreams,” he whispered, and Mari watched as the poodle called Makkachin settled beside Yuuri on the bed, warming his back.

Yuuri did not reply, already asleep again, his hand holding Viktor’s.

Mari looked away.

* * *

There were several perks of his job that Phichit appreciated greatly. His salary, for example, was better than he would have ever imagined to get for a job. Not that he saw it as a job anymore. Yuuri was his friend, a friend he liked to take care of, and a friend he managed the household for. Aside from the obvious things, there were other things that he enjoyed. The great coffee he got to drink in the morning, for example. His rooms with the garden view. The huge television on which he had watched _The King and the Skater_ several times already in high definition and with fantastic sound. The fact he could sleep long in the mornings because Yuuri was not a morning person either.

It seemed, however, that Chris was a morning person.

“Good morning, cheri,” he hummed as he faced a sleepy Phichit the morning after Mari’s arrival. “I’ve brought you coffee.”

Phichit rubbed his eyes. “It’s not even eight…” He mumbled and walked away from the door, letting the beta into his apartment.

“I was sure you’d be awake already,” Chris said smoothly as he entered Phichit’s rooms and shut the door behind himself. “But I must admit I’ve not only come to bring you coffee, darling. I have something to ask you.”

Phichit turned around to him, eyeing him cautiously. “I’m not having sex with you now.”

Chris chuckled. “I was not going to ask, but I am disappointed nonetheless,” he said, handing Phichit his coffee. “No. I’m going to St. Petersburg today to run errands for Viktor. Would you like to join me?”

Phichit took a sip from the coffee, almost moaning at how good it was.

“Why would you need me for that?” he asked Chris.

“Because I like your company,” the Swiss said plainly. “And to be honest, cheri, I know little about the things he wants me to buy on top of everything else. Teas and things like that. For Yuuri.”

Phichit hesitated. As much as he wanted to go out with Chris, he couldn’t just walk out of the manor for shopping and leave Yuuri alone. Not now.

“Yuuri is not feeling well,” Phichit said softly. “I’m sorry. Perhaps another time.”

Chris nodded understandingly. “Of course. It was worth a try.” He shrugged, looking around in Phichit’s living room. “What’s that?” He asked, gesturing at a poster of _The King and the Skater_.

“That,” Phichit said seriously, “is art of the best film that has ever been made.”

“I’d love to watch it with you some time,” Chris said with a wink. “Will I see you for dinner, then?”

“Sure,” Phichit said. “Dinner it is.”

Chris gave him another smile and then leant forward to kiss Phichit on the cheek.

“Dinner it is,” he hummed before he turned around and left again, leaving Phichit behind, who realised how very warm it had suddenly become in his room.

Any other day, he would have crawled straight back into bed, but with the coffee – and the peck to the cheek – Phichit was sure he wouldn’t be able to get any more rest. And so, he got dressed and enjoyed the fresh coffee alongside a light meal on his very own balcony, watching Yuuri’s sister Mari take a walk through the estate’s gardens. She was smoking a cigarette, Phichit noticed, and was talking on the phone at the same time. She truly was an extraordinary sight, and not at all how he had imagined her. The short, bleached hair, the simple clothes, none of it declared heir of the Yakuza. But then again, nothing about Yuuri declared master of the strings at first glance, but that was what he actually was – behind all the jewels and submissive behaviour that the omega showed in public.

The Katsukis knew how to play the game.

And in this game, you either won, or you died. Or you kept playing, and playing, until every single figure on the board was yours, lying defeated to your feet.

And Yuuri was, without any doubt, capable of playing this game until its bitter, bloody end. Only a fool would dare to underestimate him, or his sister.

In many ways, Phichit knew, Yuuri was the most dangerous person in Russia. Not the Pakhan. Not the Pakhan’s men. Not Yakov Feltsman.

He drank the rest of his coffee and went back inside, preparing for the day.

* * *

Yuuri knew how lucky he was to have such a patient, loving alpha at his side, who did not mind the presence of another alpha in the room. He knew that others would not have been so tolerant, even if the other alpha was Yuuri’s sister.

Slowly, Mari had begun to trust Victor, although Yuuri still wondered about the exact reason. But then again, he had been asleep for most of the time so far, barely able to keep his eyes open for long. He hated the medication he had to take, but being sleepy was a thousand times more bearable than feeling terribly nauseous all the time.

He also found that fresh air helped, too, against both the tiredness and the nausea. And so, he found himself taking walks with Mari at his side, Victor not with them as he had to work. After all, the Japanese delegation was still with them, but Mari stayed away from the official business. Her only concern, it seemed, was her brother.

“This reminds me of home,” Yuuri said to her at some point as they walked past the small pond in the garden, Makkachin a few meters in front of them, sniffing the flowers. “When we were out with… with Vicchan.” Thinking of his old dog always made him sad, and he came to the realisation that it had almost been three years.

Mari hummed in agreement. “Yeah. The gardens are similar. But to be honest, ours is better. This one here is…” She looked around with a frown.

“European?” Yuuri suggested with a small smile.

Mari shrugged. “I don’t know. Just feels different. I’ve never been too fond of Western people.”

“You are confusing Westerners with the Leroys,” Yuuri chuckled, leaning against his sister as they walked. “You just don’t like JJ.”

Mari huffed. “No one likes JJ. Not even Isabella likes JJ, I bet.”

“Nee-chan, they’re married.”

“So? Since when is liking the other a prerequisite in our circles in order to get married?”

“Mari, they are disgustingly in love. Everyone knows it. You’ve seen it.”

“I stand by what I said,” Mari decided, shaking her head. “You’ve met him a few times, too, right?”

Yuuri nodded, carefully stepping over a puddle. “I’m… not his biggest fan,” he said. “He’s a boisterous Canadian who does not know when to shut his mouth. Isabella is nice enough, though.”

“But not nice enough for you to talk to her?” Mari asked, and Yuuri frowned in confusion. “I’m just kidding. I know you’re not so good with people. It’s actually rather clever to play the proud, unapproachable omega of the Pakhan. Not just because of the, well… mysterious aura.”

Yuuri blushed. “I’m not doing it because of some mysterious aura that it apparently give me,” he murmured. “I hate talking to people I don’t know and Viktor respects that. And I’m grateful for that.”

Mari was quiet for a long moment, and Yuuri wondered what she was thinking about that made her remain silent. It was not that she was a chatty person in general – on the contrary, she usually stuck to casual, witty remarks and never held long speeches. She was very much like their late father, many people said, who had always been popular but never a chatterbox either. But Mari usually never held back with what she thought about people, and Yuuri knew that she was still not quite sure what to think about Viktor.

“Your husband is an idiot,” she said eventually, and that alone made Yuuri burst into laughter. “But he’s a good one,” Mari added with a chuckle as Yuuri kept laughing, and oh, he had not realised how much tension he had held in his body. It all seemed to come out together with his laughter, and suddenly, the world felt so much brighter and more colourful.

“Mari,” Yuuri said and turned to her. “Viktor is the greatest idiot that walks the earth. But he’s my idiot and I love him so.”

Mari nodded, running a hand through her short hair. “I know. That’s why I can live with him. If you can love him, then I can tolerate him.”

Yuuri began to smile even wider, and he wrapped his arms around his sister, hugging her tightly.

“That means the world to me,” he said quietly into her ear before pulling away again, knowing that Mari did not particularly like hugs that much. “And I hope you will find love like that, too.”

“Ah,” Mari rolled her eyes and seemed to visibly shiver. “You have no idea what I have to endure almost daily at home. So many alphas that want to get close to me. They like the thought of marrying an alpha woman and having her submit.”

“I guess they realise rather quickly that they’ve come to the wrong address,” Yuuri said with a laugh, and Mari grinned.

“Yuuri, I swear, I will not marry unless I’ve found someone that does not see the Yakuza heir in me. Or some weird fetish. I’m fine on my own. And I’m aware that I’m in a privileged position.”

Yuuri nodded. “I understand that. Nonetheless, I hope that you will find the love that I have for Viktor. The love he has for me, too.”

Mari gave him an amused look. “What, an alpha that treats me like a queen and follows my every order? I certainly wouldn’t say no to that.”

Yuuri blushed at the rather accurate description of his husband’s behaviour towards him. “He’s… incredibly considerate.”

“He’s whipped.”

“Nee-chan…”

“You know that I’m right.”

“Sometimes…” Yuuri began carefully, clasping his hands. “Sometimes, he’s… a bit much. Yes. But he’s… he’s perfect.”

He knew how silly that probably sounded in the ears of his ever-rationally thinking sister, but much to his surprise, she did not laugh or make a witty remark, as usual. Instead, she gave him a surprisingly soft, understanding smile that Yuuri rarely ever saw on her.

“I know he’s perfect for you,” she said. “That’s why I’m not worried about leaving you in his care. He’ll keep you safe.”

The way she said it, however, made Yuuri frown. There was always some degree of danger involved in their lives – after all, they were members of the criminal world, whether they liked it or not. But he had not missed the shimmer in Mari’s eyes.

Yuuri grabbed her arm. “Mari, what’s going on?” He asked quietly, suddenly worried about the guards that seemed to be everywhere, now that he paid attention to their presence.

Mari glanced over her shoulder for a moment.

“You can’t tell anyone,” she whispered. “I’m not even allowed to tell you. But you are my brother. I have to tell you.”

“Not here,” Yuuri murmured and linked his arm with Mari’s, and they kept walking. He called for Makkachin, keeping the dog close as they walked down the garden path towards the greenhouse that Viktor had built for him shortly after their wedding. There never were any guards in the greenhouse, and they would have their privacy there. The privacy that usually protected him and Viktor whenever they went there for some shared intimacy would protect him and Mari now, too.

Mari said nothing as they entered the greenhouse, only looking around in interest as Yuuri shut the door behind them. The first time Yuuri had taken young Yuri Plisetsky here, the teenager had reacted just like her – surprised, but he had promptly remarked that the place was “too fucking warm.”

“No one will disturb us here,” Yuuri said and took Mari down the path between the plants towards the pool. They sat down on the chairs where, as Yuuri realised with a blush, he and Viktor had made love many, many times. Where perhaps, even, their baby had been conceived. Instinctively, he touched his stomach.

Mari sat down and clasped her hands on her lap, looking surprisingly solemn all of a sudden.

“Okay, so…” She took a deep breath. “I was in this meeting with our uncle when one of our men came in and gave him a letter. I couldn’t see what it said, but I saw the handwriting. It was definitely Chulanont’s.”

Yuuri stared at her.

“I know because I studied our father’s correspondence with him,” Mari continued. “It’s rather distinct. I don’t know what the letter was about, but the way our uncle looked while reading it was… something unsettled him greatly, Yuuri. I’ve never seen him like that. I think he’s discussing this with your husband, too. But if it’s from Chulanont, it doesn’t mean anything good. You know what they did to our aunt.”

Yuuri felt a cold shiver running down his spine. They had never met their aunt, for she had died before they had been born, but they had heard the stories. Her death was the reason he and his mother, and consequently Mari, had spent their lives locked away in the manor of the Katsuki family.

“I bet our uncle is here because your servant is a Chulanont,” Mari continued.

“Whatever this is, Phichit has nothing to do with this!” Yuuri cried out. “He’s my friend! He’s a beta!”

“Yuuri, I believe you!” Mari said quickly and grasped his hands to soothe him. “I am sure that Phichit has no idea about anything. I bet he does not know about our aunt. From what I know, the Chulanonts don’t pay attention to their betas at all. I’m sure he’s entirely harmless. But please, Yuuri, you have to be careful, even around Phichit. Especially around Phichit. God knows what his family is up to, and if they might use him for… for God knows what. Yuuri, I’ve never seen our uncle so pale after reading a letter.”

“But what could they possibly want from us,” Yuuri whispered, shaking his head. “Why us? Why now?”

“I don’t know,” Mari said. “But there is something that our uncle is not telling me, and I won’t rest until I know what it is. You are safe here because of Viktor, and that calms me somewhat. But I urge you to be careful. Don’t… don’t trust the peace.”

Yuuri had never seen his sister so worried before. Of the two, she was usually the one to keep a clear head and stay strong, but she seemed so incredibly troubled that Yuuri could not help but take her worries seriously.

“Do you think our uncle is discussing this with Viktor?” Yuuri asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Mari said. “Would he come to you if he did?”

“Probably,” Yuuri said. “Viktor never keeps something from me. I always know what’s going on.”

“Keep me updated, then,” Mari said, squeezing Yuuri’s hands. “If Viktor talks to you, then call me on the secure line. Don’t use messages. Call me. Okay?”

Yuuri nodded. “I’ll call you.”

“Good. And not a single word to Phichit. Do you understand?”

* * *

It was strange to stand beside Viktor, wordlessly and with grace, as they wished the Katsukis a safe journey home. And a few days later, Mari departed, too.

Yuuri had never felt so alone, not even after getting married. Watching his sister leave after hugging her for the last time made his heart ache, and he could not help but cry silently at Viktor’s side as the car drove away. Seeing her again, having her around had made him incredibly happy, and seeing her leave in times like these, when there was so much uncertainty, broke Yuuri’s heart.

Perhaps, he thought to himself as he wept, he was just so emotional because of the hormones flooding his system.

That was what Phichit suspected, too, and the beta gently patted Yuuri’s arm. “There’s still the phone,” he said softly.

Yuuri managed a small nod, reaching up to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall.

“Phichit, be a dear and escort Yuuri back our bedroom, yes?” Viktor said when the car was finally out of sight. “I’ll be with you soon, my jewel, I just need to finish some correspondence. Wait for me, yes?”

Yuuri nodded lightly and let Phichit take his arm, following him inside and back upstairs. Viktor insisted on Yuuri never taking the stairs alone, now that he was pregnant, afraid that he might slip and hurt himself and the baby. Whilst Yuuri found that slightly ridiculous, he did not protest, not wanting to upset Viktor. And Phichit had agreed with the Pakhan, too.

Phichit tried to distract him once they had reached the bedroom, and Yuuri sat down on the bed as the beta went to fetch his dressing gown so he could get ready for bed. Yuuri had tried not to think too much about what Mari had said about the Chulanonts, but he was sure that Phichit, no matter what the Chulanonts were up to, was entirely innocent. Phichit was too good for anything evil. Phichit was good. Phichit was his friend.

“I was thinking, we could do some cooking tomorrow,” Phichit said happily as he brought Yuuri his dressing gown and then went to help him undress. “I’ve found some cool recipes online, and I also have a Thai cooking book that my grandmother gave me a few years ago. She even added lots of family recipes to it.”

Yuuri shivered. “Say… do you talk to your family often?”

“Only to my mother and my siblings, really,” Phichit said as he folded Yuuri’s blouse and put it aside. “My father is too busy. And he doesn’t really care about me either. I guess that’s the fate of a beta.” He shrugged and reached for Yuuri’s trousers to fold them, too.

“Are you the only beta child he has?” Yuuri asked.

“Nah. Two of my sisters are betas, too, and he ignores them just like he ignores me. My eldest brother is an alpha, though, and one of my sisters is an alpha as well, and the other one is an omega. My younger brothers have not presented yet, so we’re still playing the guessing game. But judging by their behaviour I bet they’ll be alphas, too.”

Yuuri said nothing, allowing Phichit to help him into his nightgown and into the dressing gown at last. Sitting down at the dressing table he let Phichit brush his hair, and he closed his eyes.

Phichit was innocent.

He was just a beta.

Phichit had no idea of anything his father did.

“I don’t like my father that much, to be honest,” Phichit murmured as he combed Yuuri’s hair. “I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s… strange.”

“I know what you mean,” Yuuri murmured, opening his eyes again. “That is how I think about my uncle.”

Phichit chuckled.

The door behind them was opened and Viktor came in, barely managing to shut the door on Makkachin who wanted to follow her master. Yuuri couldn’t help but chuckle at her whine as she was made to stay outside.

“That was quick,” Yuuri said as Viktor took off his jacket and stretched. “Was it simple correspondence?”

“Just an e-mail,” Viktor said with a sigh. “Thank you, Phichit.”

Phichit put the hairbrush down. “Good night, Yuuri. Good night, Sir.”

Yuuri watched his friend leave through the mirror, only then noticing that Viktor had picked up the brush and taken the position behind Yuuri. Yuuri smiled, casting down his gaze.

“That feels nice,” he said as Viktor began to brush his hair, not as skilfully as Phichit, of course, but with incredible tenderness.

“Everything for my jewel,” Viktor said softly, running his hand through Yuuri’s hair. “Your hair is so incredibly soft. I could play with it for hours without end if you let me.”

“Don’t pretend you’ve never done so while I slept,” Yuuri chided him gently, making Viktor laugh and blush at the same time.

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted and put the hairbrush down, gently putting his arms around Yuuri from behind and nuzzling his hair. “God, I love you so.”

Yuuri closed his eyes, leaning into his husband’s embrace.

With him, he was safe.

With him, he was loved.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Only as Viktor let go of him he rose, moving from the dressing table to the bed. Slipping under the covers, he watched Viktor undress, too, admiring his body in the light of the lamp on his bedside table.

“Enjoying the view?” Viktor asked as he felt Yuuri’s eyes on him.

Yuuri smiled, half-hiding his face in a pillow. “Very much so.”

Viktor chuckled and quickly took off the rest of his clothes, slipping under the covers beside Yuuri completely nude, as usual. There, he came to rest between Yuuri’s legs, placing his hands on his belly and kissing it gently. “Hello, baby,” he whispered.

Yuuri almost burst into tears at the sight.

“Your mama and I love you very much,” Victor whispered, pressing another kiss to Yuuri’s belly. “And we can’t wait to meet you. Until then, you grow big and strong and beautiful, yes? And when you come, we’ll be here, and you’ll be loved even more.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, running a hand through Viktor’s hair as he watched his husband talk to their unborn baby, the little one they had yet to meet. It was incredible, and so surreal, that they had hoped for this for such a long time – and that their wishes had been granted when they had expected it the least.

“You look so beautiful, my jewel,” Viktor said, looking up at Yuuri from where he lay between his legs. “The pregnancy truly makes you glow.”

“It’s been barely a few weeks,” Yuuri said weakly.

“But I can see it on you already,” Viktor hummed, nuzzling Yuuri’s stomach. “You look divine. You smell heavenly. And your smile… Your smile has never been happier.”

Yuuri blushed at his husband’s praise, not sure what to say. Perhaps it was true, that his smile was happier now, but it did not quite feel like it. Not with what Mari has told him.

“Ah, there it is,” Viktor said softly and pushed himself up on his elbows, moving upwards to lie next to Yuuri and put his arm around him. “There I can see the worry in your eyes. What is it, my jewel?”

Sometimes, Yuuri hated how much of an open book he was for his husband.

“I was just wondering about the last two weeks,” Yuuri said, looking up at Viktor, who was regarding him ever so attentively and playing with the collar of his nightgown. “I barely got to see you. And I worried that my uncle and his men might have brought more problems to worry about.”

That was as close to the truth as he could possibly get without giving away that Mari had talked to him, without breaking his promise to her.

Viktor sighed. “You are always so worried about me, my jewel,” he murmured and pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri’s lips. “We both had two exhausting weeks indeed. But I can assure you, that none of it shall follow us into the future. Into this wonderful future that is awaiting the three of us.” At that, he put his hand on Yuuri’s belly again.

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “But you would tell me if you were concerned about something, right?”

“Of course I would,” Viktor said immediately, and with a certainty that told Yuuri that Viktor spoke the truth.

His uncle had not said anything.

Viktor was clueless.

“And I hope you do the same, my love,” Viktor said softly, brushing the hair out of Yuuri’s face. “Trust me with your worries. Share your burdens with me if there are any. Okay?”

Yuuri nodded, and buried his face in Viktor’s shoulder.

If only Mari were still with them.


	17. Identity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not an April Fool's joke!  
> This chapter is real, and I love it, and I hope you will love it too!  
> In these crazy times, writing gives me a lot, and so does reading fanfiction and interacting with the fandom. Stay strong, everyone! <3

Viktor did not even wait for the car to stop.

He was out of the vehicle the moment it began to slow down, his heart beating fast in his chest, his alpha raging inside him as he approached the house, ran up the steps, and past the waiting personnel. The entrance hall was deserted except for one or two guards, and it was so for a very good reason.

No one wanted to be near the Pakhan in the current situation. Not after his mate had been attacked, and had narrowly escaped death.

The only person that dared to come near Viktor in this moment was Chris, and he was at Victor’s side the moment the alpha stepped into the manor.

“I want to know who did this, and who is behind this, and I want them dead,” Viktor growled as he marched upstairs in record speed. “I don’t care how fucking complicated it might be, I want names, I want their heads!”

“We’re on it, Viktor,” Chris said as he walked quickly beside him. “Otabek took the attacker down. His name is—”

“Don’t mention the name of that scum in my house,” Viktor hissed as he pushed open door after door. “It will never be mentioned again. Is that understood?”

“It is,” Chris said as calmly as he could. “Otabek immediately brought Yuuri back to his rooms, and he, Lilia, and your brother have not left his side since.”

They pushed open the last set of doors and found themselves in Yuuri’s chambers, and Chris froze in the doorframe, just before Viktor could hear it. The soft whimpers, the whines, coming from Yuuri’s bedroom.

Viktor burst through the door, ignoring the people that surrounded their bed, and fell to his knees beside his mate. “Yuuri, I’m here,” he breathed, grasping his beloved and pulling him into his arms. At first, Yuuri seemed unable to move, frozen in Viktor’s embrace.

The alpha swallowed thickly, gently reaching up to touch Yuuri’s hair. “My sweet?” He whispered. “I’m here.”

For a terribly long moment, his Yuuri did not react at all, sitting completely still, and Viktor could hear his own heart beat rapidly in his chest.

And then, Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor and buried his face in his chest, and from his throat came the most heartbreaking, most terrified whine of distress that Viktor had ever heard, and the sound alone sent cold shivers down the spines of all the people present.

“Out.”

Viktor’s voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was enough.

In an instant, Lilia and Otabek backed away, Lilia taking Yuri by the shoulders and gently pulling the boy with her out of the room. But not even as the door fell shut and they found themselves alone did Yuuri stop whimpering, but started shaking even more, his fingers digging into Viktor’s shirt as he sobbed.

Never had Victor felt so helpless before.

He tried to think back to the books he had read, the educational manuals and advice books written for alphas to teach them about omega care. But Viktor did not need to read a book to know that his mate was in shock, and that he was the only one who could support Yuuri right now. And so, he held him close, and rocked his mate gently in his arms as Yuuri cried, as terrified whimpers filled the room and broke Viktor’s heart.

It was his job to protect his mate, and he had failed to do so. Despite being the wealthiest, most powerful alpha in Russia, despite having so many people at his disposal, despite giving Yuuri guards and a home that he had always deemed safe. What good was all of this if he, Viktor, could not protect what he loved the most?

“I’m so sorry, my love,” Viktor whispered into Yuuri’s hair as he held him close, as he pressed his mate against his heart, begging the Lord to make sure that Yuuri could hear it beat, that he knew that it was beating only for him.

Whoever had done this to his Yuuri would suffer for it. That Viktor swore to the Heavens and to Hell. Even if he had to go to Hell for it himself.

They sat together in each other’s embrace for what seemed hours, Yuuri not once moving away, the sobs shaking his body. Never before had he appeared so small, so fragile to Viktor, and he wanted nothing more than to take Yuuri away, to assure him that everything would be fine, that no one would ever hurt him again. But how could he possibly promise that, after just failing to protect him?

“I’m so sorry, my beloved,” Viktor said quietly and swallowed thickly. “I’m just… I’m just calling someone, okay? I’m not letting go of you…”

He felt Yuuri’s fingers digging deeper into his shirt as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding Yuuri close with his free arm as he dialled Chris’ number.

“Please, call Dr. Ivanov. He needs to come now,” he murmured, trying not to speak too loudly, but he was sure that Yuuri could not hear him in his current state.

“Yes, Viktor,” Chris replied and Viktor immediately hung up, tossing the phone aside and pulling his mate into his lap before moving with him to the centre of the bed. There, he reached for everything that could possibly help to soothe Yuuri. His favourite pillows and blankets, Viktor’s sleepshirt, everything with their scents on it that would reassure Yuuri that he was home, that he was safe, and that no one would harm him here. That Viktor would not allow it.

“I’m here, my love,” Viktor whispered into his ear as he curled up with Yuuri under the covers and stroked his hair. “I’m here. I won’t leave you alone.”

He kept whispering to him like this, just holding him and reassuring him of his love. Yuuri had stopped whimpering, but he was shaking in his arms, and Viktor counted the seconds, begging for the knock on the door to finally come. And when it came, Yuuri began to whine, and Viktor had to hold him tight.

“That’s just Dr. Ivanov, my sweet,” he whispered before calling the doctor in. Yuuri curled up further in his embrace, as if he wanted to hide away from the world.

The doctor was a man Viktor knew well, located in the nearby village, and the only stranger he could tolerate near his mate right now.

“I heard of what has happened, Sir,” he said to Viktor before putting his bag down and kneeling by the bed to look at Yuuri, who was trying to hide away in Viktor’s embrace so hard as if he wanted to become invisible. “He is in shock.”

“He is,” Viktor said quietly, wrapping his arms further around Yuuri. “What… what can I do? He won’t stop crying, he won’t stop shaking…”

“After such an incident, it is normal for an omega to be upset,” Dr. Ivanov said calmly, trying not to speak too loudly so he would not startle the scared omega. “Your omega is very young, and such an… incident easily causes a shock. I suggest an injection of something that will calm him down and help him sleep. I would hate to have him sent to a hospital, and I don’t think you would want that either, I assume.”

“My mate stays here,” Viktor said firmly. “But yes. Do what you must. Will it help him?”

“He will be able to sleep, and it will soothe his nerves. Tomorrow, he will feel better already, and he will be able to speak to you. It is important that he speaks about what has happened. But give him time to do so on his own. I know you are very worried about your mate now, but first and foremost, he needs rest.”

As much as Viktor hated being told what to do, he knew that the doctor was right.

He nodded lightly. “Do what you must, Dr. Ivanov.”

Viktor nuzzled Yuuri’s hair gently, pulling up his shirt just enough to expose a little bit of skin for the injection, hoping that Yuuri would not feel the needle. His mate did not even wince, shaking too much to even notice the hand of the doctor on his skin. Nonetheless, Viktor kept whispering to him, kissing him and gently rocking him back and forth until the doctor was done, and the injection could take its full effect.

The doctor sat wordlessly beside them as they waited for Yuuri to stop shaking. After a while, Yuuri’s hands relaxed on Viktor’s chest, and his breathing became calm and even again with every second that passed. Soon, Yuuri rested in Viktor’s arms as if he were simply asleep, only a gentle frown left on his forehead that Viktor quickly kissed away.

“Give him time, Sir,” Dr. Ivanov said and rose. “Let him sleep and wake up naturally. Be there when he wakes up and comfort him as best as you can.”

Viktor nodded. “Thank you,” he murmured, never looking away from his mate. “Please… please do me a favour and send the guard in. The young man with the short hair.”

He heard the doctor leave, his footsteps replaced by Otabek’s, who entered the room quietly and with a somber expression on his face.

Viktor only briefly looked up before looking down at Yuuri again.

“I’ve been told that you threw yourself before my mate in order to protect him,” he said quietly, stroking Yuuri’s hair. “I did not think I would get such a brave man when I recruited you off the street. Someone that would throw himself before what I hold most dear without hesitation. For that, you have my gratitude, Otabek.”

He lifted his head, looking the young man in the eye.

Otabek bowed his head. “If I had been any better, I would have stopped the traitor from entering the premises,” he said calmly.

“We both know that a single man cannot hold a safety net,” Viktor said quietly. “You have protected my mate, and you have carried him to safety. Therefore, you will be rewarded. Fifteen million roubles.”

Otabek, who had grown up in poverty as far as Viktor knew, held his breath for a moment before he bowed his head again.

“Thank you, Sir. I am very grateful.”

“And you will be my mate’s personal guard from now on. Yuuri trusts you. If you are ready to lay down your life for him—”

Otabek sank to his knee in the most respectful manner, and as gracefully as possible for a man like him.

“I will be his most loyal servant, Sir,” he said firmly. “I will find the weakness in our system and prove myself worthy.”

“You already are,” Viktor said quietly. “But you may go.”

He did not watch Otabek leave, his gaze entirely fixed on Yuuri, who slept so peacefully in his arms as if none of this had happened.

His beautiful, intelligent, loving, extraordinary Yuuri.

“I love you so, my jewel,” Viktor whispered and held him tight. “I won’t allow anyone to hurt you again. That I swear by Lord above.”

Yuuri did not reply.

* * *

No one dared to comment on the Pakhan’s dishevelled appearance the following days. The man that usually kept himself in an impeccable state seemed to fall apart more with every moment that passed, with every minute that they waited for news. Since the moment Otabek had left to find the weak spot in their system and prove himself worthy, barely a word had been spoken in the private chambers of the Pakhan and his mate. The latter was always asleep, made tired by medication and by exhaustion, too, the stress too much for him. He was young, he was fragile, and in his current state, entirely depending on his alpha to watch over him.

And that was what the Pakhan did, much to everyone’s surprise. There had still been a handful of people around that had assumed that the Pakhan’s infatuation was just that – infatuation, and that it would sooner or later pass, and that the omega would be reduced to the means of bearing children, and wouldn’t hold a lot of importance. But even those now realised that they had been greatly mistaken.

This omega was here to stay, and the Pakhan would remain at his side.

Only a selected few were allowed to enter the omega’s rooms anyway, but in the current situation, the number had been reduced even further. Only Christophe Giacometti was allowed to enter, besides Lilia Baranovskaya and young Yuri Plisetsky – the latter two however keeping their distance out of respect. And even Chris only entered the rooms when absolutely necessary, to update the Pakhan about the ongoing investigations.

Other than that, they were left alone.

Viktor only ever left Yuuri’s side to use the bathroom, only to return immediately to his mate’s side, climbing into the messy nest he had made for them, pulling Yuuri into his arms. And there, Yuuri would sleep, his body pressed against Viktor’s out of sheer instinct.

They truly were one body, one soul, one heart. That much Viktor knew now, and seeing Yuuri like this broke his heart over and over again, the sadness only ever replaced with both undying love for him, and with rage and the determination to kill whoever it was that wanted to harm his mate.

It was easy, of course, to let his alpha take full control of him. But whilst Viktor had not learnt many things from his father, there were a few pieces of advice that the man had given him that Viktor remembered now. An alpha never lost his posture, never lost control over himself, especially not when it came to protecting his mate. A good alpha remained calm, remained in full control of the situation, so he would be ready to strike and act when the right time had come. A man just had to be patient.

And oh, Viktor was a very patient man.

And so, he held Yuuri, and kissed him, and whispered him in the hope that his words would reach Yuuri in his dreams.

And then, after an endless time of tossing and turning, his beloved began to stir in his embrace, and Viktor looked down into Yuuri’s tired, beautiful eyes, and he kissed his forehead with outmost tenderness and care.

“My jewel.”

Yuuri blinked sleepily at him, the medication still very much in his system, but he was awake, and he was not crying, and that was all that mattered to Viktor in this moment.

“You have a beard,” Yuuri whispered, his voice hoarse. Carefully, he reached out to touch Viktor’s cheek, feeling the stubble there.

Viktor had not even thought of what he looked like, of what Yuuri would see.

“I do,” Viktor said quietly, turning his head ever so slightly to press a small kiss to Yuuri’s open palm.

“It looks lovely on you,” Yuuri whispered and continued to stroke Viktor’s cheek, his fingertips the most tender of touches that Viktor had ever experienced.

“I might keep it for a while, then,” Viktor gave back softly, and couldn’t help but smile at his mate.

The corner of Yuuri’s mouth twitched. “Just for a little while.”

He lowered his hand again and turned his head just a little, barely enough to look past Viktor’s arm.

“For how long did I sleep?”

“Almost three days,” Viktor replied calmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Three days…”

“The doctor was here and gave you something,” Viktor explained. “You were… in shock.”

Yuuri looked at him for a long moment, a gentle frown on his forehead. And then, he looked down, as if ashamed of himself.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible to Viktor.

“Every thought that is worrying about you was worth thinking,” Viktor said softly. “I wanted to protect you and I…” He found himself unable to finish the sentence.

“I remember Makkachin barking,” Yuuri murmured, curling up further in Viktor’s embrace. “And I remember so much… so much noise after that man came.” The last words came out in barely more than a whisper again.

“Otabek protected you,” Viktor said softly. “And he carried you to safety. The man who tried to harm you is dead. And we will find his supporters and wipe their existence off the surface of the earth. I promise you that.”

With every word, his voice had become stronger, firmer, and more filled with determination as he held Yuuri closer and closer, unwilling to ever let go of him again.

Slender arms came around Viktor’s neck, and he felt Yuuri’s lips on his bare shoulder blades as his mate sat on his lap, seeking comfort and giving reassurance at the same time.

“I know,” Yuuri whispered. “I love you.”

Viktor’s heart ached, and threatened to overflow.

The door to their bedroom fell open and Chris came in with quick steps, phone and tablet in hand. “Viktor, we have—”

Yuuri let out a sound neither of them had ever heard before, a sound so terrified and out of this world that it sent the coldest of shivers down Viktor’s spine. Chris froze in his steps, eyes wide as he watched the omega flee further into Viktor’s arms, as if he wanted to disappear entirely from this world.

“I’ve got you, my jewel,” Viktor breathed as he held Yuuri, and Chris stepped away immediately, shocked by what he saw. “It’s only Chris, our friend, remember? Just Chris…” He looked up at the other man, the beta immediately understanding and leaving the room and closing the door.

But Yuuri kept shaking, awfully so, and all Viktor could do was to keep whispering to him, reassuring him of his love.

Never had Viktor felt so helpless before.

He was a terrible husband. That much he now knew.

* * *

Chris immediately began to apologise the moment Viktor stepped into his office a while later. “I’m so sorry, Viktor, I should have knocked before simply barging in, I really did not mean to upset Yuuri so-“

Viktor merely raised his hand to stop the sheer flood of apologies as he carefully closed the door behind himself.

“You did not mean any harm,” he said and moved to sit down in the nearest chair. “Yuuri is asleep now. He took some of the medication Dr. Ivanov left him…” It was as if all the tension and stress he had carried with him for the last hours and days seemed to somewhat fall off him, not leaving him entirely, but at least giving him a break. And without these emotions sitting inside him, clinging to his heart, Viktor suddenly felt incredibly hollow. He sank deeper into the chair and his eyes fell shut, and he absentmindedly pinched the bridge of his nose out of sheer exhaustion.

To only close his eyes for a moment, and open them again refreshed and rested.

Today, the universe was not in his favour.

Chris moved around him, opening cupboards and preparing a strong cup of coffee with a shot of alcohol for the Pakhan. Neither of them said a word for a long while, either of them nursing their drinks, the steam rising from the cups that warmed their hands.

Of all the people that worked for him, Chris was probably the one that knew him the longest, and the best. People had always speculated that the Pakhan had an intimate relationship with the beta, but both of them knew that this had never been the case. They preferred to stay friends, and almost as close as brothers.

And besides, Chris had never been Viktor’s type.

But Chris was a good man, and a good listener, and Viktor knew he would always have a friend in him, regardless of the situation.

“Have you heard from Otabek?” Viktor asked after a while, once he had drunk half of his coffee.

“He’s in Kazakhstan,” Chris replied, leaning back against the backrest of his chair. “The man we’re looking for is Sokolov. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Mhm.”

Viktor thought back to Sokolov’s behaviour about a year ago, when he had introduced Viktor to his eldest daughter.

“It’s rather a cliché, isn’t it,” Chris murmured, more to himself than to Viktor. “You reject the man’s daughter, he gets angry and tries to get rid of Yuuri in order to, as I assume, get your attention back to his girl. How stupid does one have to be to think that this would work?”

Viktor kept looking down into his cup, watching the steam rise and small bubbles form on the surface of the black beverage. “He isn’t that stupid,” he mumbled. “I’m sure that was part of the reason he arranged this, but judging by the things that piece of scum apparently said to my jewel, this is about my decision to marry a foreigner.”

“But we’ve never had issues with the Yakuza,” Chris pointed out.

“But other people have. Remember the Chulanonts?”

Chris grimaced. “I do…”

“And whilst I don’t think that history will repeat itself, I think that this is a personal attack. Not directed at my jewel, but at me.” Viktor’s gaze darkened. “They forget that I am not just the son of my father, but also the son of my mother.”

Chris regarded him thoughtfully at those words, having only ever heard rumours of a certain incident that had taken place many years ago, when Viktor had been a newborn still. That people had tried to kill mother and child, and that Viktor’s mother had executed every single one of them with a golden weapon her husband had gifted her on their wedding day.

The Nikiforovs were an odd family, but they protected those they loved with their own lives.

“I don’t think we have to take it that far,” Chris said carefully. “Once we’ve got Sokolov, who is presumably on top of the chain, his subordinates will not dare to make a move.”

“It’s not about them making a move, Chris,” Viktor hissed. “They want to harm my mate. I want them dead.”

Chris said nothing to that, knowing that nothing he could possibly say would change Viktor’s mind. Perhaps that was the greatest difference between alphas and betas, he thought. Alphas had this urge to protect their mates, an urge that oftentimes made them careless and made them forget about everything else. Especially when the omega in question was young and fragile, like Yuuri.

“One step at a time,” Chris said eventually and set his cup aside. “I am certain that Otabek will be successful. Until then, we will have guards at every entrance. More guards around the east wing, of course. No one will enter or leave without us knowing. Your mate will be safe.”

Viktor did not seem too convinced, but he nodded absentmindedly, drinking the rest of his coffee. At least the alcohol had calmed him down to some degree, it seemed.

Only a fool, however, would underestimate the Pakhan’s patience.

He was only waiting for the right moment to strike.

* * *

Yuuri stared at his bedroom door and took deep, even breaths, listening to the voices coming from the other side.

He knew these voices, of course. The maids were in the living room, shaking out pillows, opening windows and dusting the shelves. They were chatting, as usual, and they meant absolutely no harm, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the safe bed, and go to the door, and face them.

He wanted to call Viktor, but he had left his phone on the coffee table.

Yuuri wrapped his blanket tighter around himself and shivered.

It was almost noon, but he had not found the strength to leave the bed yet. He had woken up much earlier, of course, with Viktor at his side, kissing him good-morning. Viktor’s presence alone had soothed him, and he had basked in his husband’s gentle affections that had been tender and intimate, yet entirely innocent. Yuuri knew that Viktor was doing this out of respect for his current state, and he was sure that Viktor was hungry for more, for so much more, but Yuuri simply could not give that to him. At least not yet.

Viktor was a good man. Viktor did not mind.

But that did not stop Yuuri from feeling guilty.

The maids giggled, and Yuuri pulled the blanket over his head to shut out the rest of the world.

Viktor had left him a while ago, having to tend to the business. He had been incredibly sorry, and had promised to come regularly to check on him, but Yuuri had put on a brave smile, and had told him he would be fine – knowing very well that this was a lie. He was anything but fine these days.

They were still hunting down the people that had tried to get him out of the way. Yuuri had overheard Viktor speaking to Chris on the phone about that. It was not that Viktor tried to hide it from him, he knew that – but he also knew that Viktor did not want to upset him further, and therefore tried to keep the official business away from him. Because that was what it was – it was official Bratva business now. An attack on Yuuri was an attack directed at Viktor, and the Pakhan would not rest until he had found the source of it all, and wiped their faces off the surface of the earth. That had been his promise to Yuuri, and Yuuri did not doubt that Viktor would keep it.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps in the living room, approaching the bedroom door, and Yuuri tensed up, clutching the blanket tightly – only to hear the gentle voice of his husband, thanking the maids and sending them out.

And then, the door opened, and Viktor came in and sat with him.

Yuuri wordlessly climbed into his lap, burying his face in his shoulder.

Viktor’s arms came around him, and Yuuri felt his lips on his hair.

“Are you hungry, my love?”

Yuuri had not had breakfast yet, and now it was almost noon, but he didn’t feel any hunger.

He had not felt hungry for days.

But to make Viktor worry less, he said: “A little.”

Viktor kissed his cheek and pulled away ever so slightly, just enough to be able to look at Yuuri. “Why don’t we sit in the winter garden and enjoy the sun there while we wait for lunch?”

Yuuri loved the winter garden, especially when it was raining, but he tensed up once more at the thought of other people, of people coming to the winter garden, of people coming to see him, to look at him—

“It will only be Yulia,” Viktor said, as if reading his thoughts. “You like Yulia, right?”

Indeed, he liked Yulia. She was nice, and had a friendly face, and never looked or stared or pointed.

“Then let’s go,” Viktor said after Yuuri gave a shy nod, and he moved from the bed onto his feet, holding out his hands for his mate. Yuuri hesitantly took them, leaving behind the warmth of the blankets. He looked terrible, he knew that, not having showered or bathed properly for days, that his hair was messy and he was pale, and not at all as pretty as he should be, and wanted to be, for his husband.

But Viktor did not comment on any of it. Instead, his alpha reached for Yuuri’s most beautiful dressing gown and helped him into it before offering him his arm. And Yuuri held on to him, staying close to Viktor’s side as they left the dark bedroom and made their way to the winter garden.

There was no one around as they settled on the plush sofa by the roses, the flowers always fresh and only the most beautiful ones on display for Yuuri’s pleasure. Usually, he admired them whenever he walked past them, but Yuuri had little interest in flowers these days. He curled up at Viktor’s side whilst his husband phoned the kitchens and ordered a light lunch to be brought to them.

“Is soup okay, darling?” Viktor asked, holding the phone away from his ear for a moment.

Yuuri gave a small nod, leaning further against him, closing his eyes.

“Yes. The one in the small folder. Thank you.”

Viktor hung up and set the phone aside, putting an arm around Yuuri and reaching for the quilt over the back of the sofa to keep him warm, placing it over Yuuri’s legs.

“I bought Makkachin a new squeaky toy in the shape of steamed buns,” Viktor hummed as he nuzzled Yuuri’s hair, the gesture alone significantly slowing down Yuuri’s heartbeat. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I almost lost her? She raided the kitchen and ate steamed buns and almost choked on them. She was still little back then, and I was so worried about her. She’s been banned from the kitchens ever since.” He sighed. “You can imagine how happy she is about her new toy. But the sound is driving me insane. I should have thought about that before I bought it…”

In any other situation, Yuuri would have laughed at that, but he found that he didn’t have the energy. He kept leaning against Viktor, holding onto him and basking in his warmth.

“Did you sleep for a little longer while I was away, my jewel?”

Yuuri shook his head.

“I also find it hard to fall asleep again once I’m awake,” Viktor commented. “Most of the time when that happens, I just watch you sleep. You are most adorable when you are sleeping, did you know that?”

How on earth would he know that? Yuuri could not watch himself sleep, after all, but he knew how Viktor meant it.

Viktor only ever meant well.

“You always look younger when you sleep,” Yuuri replied quietly, playing with Viktor’s hand resting on his thigh. “There never is a single frown on your face then.”

Viktor smiled. “So you like watching me sleep, too?”

“Sometimes,” Yuuri admitted, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“It can’t be as fun as watching you is,” Viktor said, and he sounded very sure of that. “After all, you are the adorable one in this marriage.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s head and kept rubbing his arm, just holding him close, and both of them knew that this was not the time for the deepest of conversations.

Sometimes it was enough to simply be together. To have the other one’s company, and the reassurance that they were loved.

Yuuri never doubted that Viktor loved him.

But he often wondered if he was worthy of it.

A man, an alpha like Viktor deserved a better mate. Something stronger, prouder, someone who was confident and stood their ground and could make people shut up with a single stare. Viktor deserved a mate that held their head high and ruled over the estate like a queen.

Viktor didn’t deserve someone as weak as him.

Someone who could not even protect themselves.

Of course, he had heard the rumours – that the man who had sent the assassin had wanted Viktor to marry his daughter. And in his darkest moments, Yuuri had begun to think that this was what should have happened all along. Viktor should have married the other man’s daughter, a woman that was certainly more suited for a life at the Pakhan’s side than he was.

He winced as the door to the winter garden opened, but it was only Yulia, bringing in their lunch on a cart. Viktor sat up and thanked her before lifting the lid off the pot, and Yuuri blinked.

“I thought miso soup with spinach and potatoes would be nice now, what do you think?” Viktor asked as he poured some soup into bowls and Yuuri kept staring. “I called your mother a few days ago and asked her for the recipe. I hope the cook got it right!”

He gave Yuuri his bowl and then took his own, picking up the spoon. “I’m curious, I’ve never had miso soup,” he said, and began to eat. After the first spoonful, he began to smile. “Vkusno! Yuuri, this is delicious! Oh, we should have had this much sooner!”

But Yuuri couldn’t find it in himself to eat. He stared at the bowl in his hands, down at the soup that smelled so much like his mother’s cooking that his eyes filled with tears, and he had to put the bowl down before it slipped out of his shaking hands.

He didn’t know how loud he cried, or how much, or for how long, but Viktor was there, holding him, whispering to him, giving him all the time he needed. And every single gesture made Yuuri’s heart ache even more, made him even more aware of how useless he was, of how horrible of a mate he was. That he had to be mothered like a child, hell, he could not even hold it together.

Why did Viktor even put up with him?

“I’m sorry?”

Yuuri was not aware that he had said the last thought out loud.

Viktor pulled away, just enough to grasp Yuuri’s shoulders, looking at him in horror.

“Yuuri…” He had suddenly become very pale, his blue eyes full of worry. “Yuuri, why would you say something like that?”

Yuuri blinked through his tears, the sight of Viktor’s face filled with anxiety breaking his heart anew. What good was he if he only made his husband worry?

“Yuuri, you…” Viktor swallowed thickly, and he cupped his cheeks in an almost desperate way. “You will always be good enough for me, no matter what.”

Only then Yuuri realised that this, too, he had said out loud.

“You are not to blame in any of this, my love,” Viktor said, his thumbs caressing Yuuri’s cheekbones and wiping the tears away. “I… I failed to protect you. I am the one who is to blame. If I had been more careful, if I had kept a better eye on you, then none of this would have happened.”

“Maybe not now but later,” Yuuri breathed, shaking his head. “You made a mistake when you married me, everyone says it, everyone says that it should have been someone else and not me—”

“To hell with what they think!” Viktor exclaimed and his eyes were wide, so wide in despair and love and determination that Yuuri was almost scared of him. “I chose you, and you chose me, and nothing could ever change that! Nothing, absolutely nothing could ever change the way I feel about you! And marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever did, I reached out for something that would make my life a happy one, and by God this is the happiest I have ever been, simply because you are with me. Please Yuuri, please believe me, think of me as a liar in everything else if you must but never doubt that you belong to me, at my side, as the one I love the most!”

The tears were now in Viktor’s eyes, too, and Yuuri could see the sheer despair in them, the love that he could feel in his own heart, and Viktor’s desperate wish that he would believe him.

And Yuuri wanted to.

He truly did.

“I want to be this other person,” Yuuri said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper, and he could barely bear to look Viktor in the eye. “That person that… that is confident and proud and strong. But I’m anything but that.”

“Fuck that person.” Viktor shook his head. “Yuuri. I don’t need you to be that person—”

“But I want to be that person,” Yuuri protested weakly. “I… I wish I was confident. I can’t… I can’t feel like this forever. So inferior and… useless.”

Viktor looked at him, simply looked at him, and Yuuri suddenly felt ashamed of telling him that.

“I don’t think you are inferior and useless,” Viktor said slowly, and sounded surprisingly calm as he spoke. “But I know the feeling of wanting to be someone else. That is… a natural desire, I guess. Something that does not come easily, and sometimes… sometimes we simply are not meant to be that kind of person we want to be.” He let go of Yuuri’s cheeks and his hands dropped to the omega’s arms, moving down to take Yuuri’s. They were so very different in size, Viktor’s hands large and masculine but with a certain grace, and Yuuri’s smaller and more feminine, yet strong.

“But that doesn’t mean we… we can’t do something about the parts we don’t like about ourselves,” Viktor added. “I want you to know that to me, Yuuri, you are perfect. But if you want to… if you want to become stronger or… less shy, then I’m here to help you.”

Yuuri looked warily at his husband, having not expected this conversation to take such a turn.

“Look, my jewel,” Viktor said and sat up a little straighter, squeezing Yuuri’s hands. “You don’t have to be this person immediately. You are so young, and new to this life, and… and haven’t we just gotten to know each other, hm?” He smiled encouragingly at that, and that alone tugged on Yuuri’s heart strings. It always did. “Give yourself the time to find out who you want to be, and how to get there. This doesn’t have to happen overnight. It can take months, or years. Believe me, I know. But I’ll be there with you, on every step of the way, as you find out who you want to be. And I’m pretty sure that the person you will find is amazing, and that I’ll love that person just as much as the one that I get to hold right now.”

Yuuri remained speechless for the rest of the time that they spent together, until it was time for Viktor to return to business.

But this time, Yuuri followed him to the door, and he stood on his toes, and kissed him on the lips.

Viktor was smiling as he pulled away. “You have no idea how happy you make me, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuuri smiled softly. “My name is Yuuri Nikiforov,” he whispered. “That is who I am.”

Viktor chuckled and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s knuckles. “And I do love him so.”

* * *

Being Yuuri Nikiforov was not as simple as one would have thought.

It began with getting up in the morning, in the arms of Viktor Nikiforov. It continued with being made love to by him, being kissed by him, being worshipped by him until the sun was high in the sky and the world impatient for them to make an appearance. Then, it was getting out of bed and taking a bath, and getting dressed, and facing the day.

It was not an easy life at all.

But it was the life that Yuuri, without noticing, had adapted to, and had chosen for himself. It was a good life, no, it was the only life he could imagine for himself now. Even if it was hard. Even if it came with tasks he felt not ready for, or felt far too young for.

Being Yuuri Nikiforov meant being many things – a mate, a partner, a friend, a lover. All of these things he was to Viktor, and those things came easy to him. Everything was easy with his husband, who loved him so much that it hurt, and who never hesitated in showing it to him. But it also meant being master of a house, a house that felt far too big for Yuuri to actually rule over. No, he was not a natural leader like his husband.

And Yuuri was sure that he had lost control over it all a long time ago.

He could feel it in the way the staff looked at him, how they moved around him, especially after the incident in the gardens. Yuuri had never been close with the maids and servants, having always been far too shy to even approach them, sticking to Yulia, whom he trusted. But now that he tried to be brave, now that he tried to keep his eyes and ears open and face the world, he saw their blatant disrespect.

At first, there were only small things, such as his flowers dying on the window sill, not being watered properly. There were even flowers that he didn’t like and was actually allergic to, and he was sure he had told one of the maids so at some point. Towels he left on the floor in the morning were still in the bathroom when he got back in the evening for a quick bath, and his clothes were folded with less care than before.

Yuuri was by no means a spoiled person.

But seeing his own clothing looking disorderly, sitting right next to Viktor’s that always looked perfectly ironed – he was not stupid.

Those were the little things.

And those little things did not matter much to him, no. If Yuuri could have his way, he would not even consider making a fuss, and he would keep folding his clothes on his own, pick up the towels and bring the laundry downstairs himself. No, he truly didn’t mind doing that. But it nagged at him that it had even come to this, and that he had to face disrespect from people that were supposed to be loyal – not to him, per se, but to Viktor. Viktor was their employer, the one who paid them and who, as he knew, also cared well enough for their families. That was how you made people loyal to yourself, Viktor had said. Yuuri had always been nice enough to the staff, or so he thought. He had not been particularly chatty, but he had always tried to murmur at least a small thankyou, and with Yulia, he had no problems at all. But whilst she was the head of staff, she could also only do so much. And although she surely noticed that some work was sloppily done, her hands were tied.

As long as Yuuri stayed quiet and tolerated things, nothing would change.

But there were things that were much harder to ignore. The giggles of the maids that died down the moment he entered a room, the judging looks he felt on his back whenever he walked past them. The fact that they rolled their eyes when he sat with his Russian tutor and studied, trying to pronounce trickier words, or when he spoke Japanese to his mother on the phone.

Yuuri knew that he was an outsider to them, as a Japanese, and as an omega, too. The maids that behaved like this undoubtedly belonged to those that had hoped for a Russian mate for the Pakhan, and had been bitterly disappointed when he had come home with a Japanese one. Yuuri knew that he didn’t have to care about their opinion, but deep down, he always had. The desire to be accepted was normal, but in their world, you did not wait for other people’s approval of your actions, or of your person.

They might not have liked him, but he, as Yuuri had to remind himself over and over again, was the one in power.

Even if it did not feel like it at all.

“You cannot wear those any longer.”

Lilia pointed at Yuuri’s ballet shoes, old and worn-out as Yuuri stretched on the floor before her. “I thought you ordered new ones.”

“I did,” Yuuri said. “But they have not arrived yet.”

Lilia raised an eyebrow. “You ordered them weeks ago,” she said. “You should check if one of the maids misplaced them.”

Yuuri rose from the floor when he was done stretching and grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip, all so he had not to look at Lilia. The woman always knew how to read him, not as well as Viktor, of course, but she always had a feeling when something bothered him.

“I think I need to work on the last bit more,” he said and grabbed the towel from the barre, rubbing his neck.

“It was good,” Lilia said with a small nod. “We will further work on it in two days. I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Yuuri said and bowed to her, as he always did after the lesson. “Thank you for teaching me.”

“Go find the ballet shoes you ordered,” she said in return, but she gave him a small smile. “I’ll see you then.”

With that, they parted, and Yuuri made his way back to his rooms, the towel around his neck. Makkachin, who was not allowed in the studio and who had waited outside, jumped up as he walked out, barking and happily wagging her tail. Yuuri knelt down before her and gave her a few good cuddles before patting her head. “Let’s get out of these clothes and find something for lunch, yes?”

Makkachin let out a happy whine, excitedly jumping up and down at the prospect of lunch – which meant ‘treats’ in Makka-speak – as she walked with Yuuri, the dog overjoyed to be reunited with him. As much as Viktor loved her, he could not take Makkachin with him into the most important meetings. Simply because he would not be able to remain serious and frightening with his darling puppy in the room.

Together, they made their way upstairs, passing Otabek on the way, who had recently returned from Kazakhstan – what he had done there, Yuuri could only imagine. But with Otabek around, Yuuri felt much safer, especially since Otabek had been promoted to his personal guard. Otabek was rather good at it, Yuuri often almost forgetting about his presence until eventually spotting him somewhere, keeping him safe. He waited for Yuuri at the end of the hallway, greeting him with a nod before following him back to the apartment with some distance between them. Makkachin merely brushed the other man’s hand with her wet nose before entirely focusing on Yuuri again.

Even Makkachin seemed to think that Otabek was fit for the position.

At the apartment, Otabek took his position by the door, and Yuuri went inside with Makkachin, scratching her head affectionately. “I’ll quickly change into something else and then we’ll eat, yes?” He whispered to her, and she wagged her tail even more, her eyes shining in anticipation.

Yuuri was about to open the door to his bedroom when he heard the maids’ voices coming from the other side, followed by giggles and small laughs.

“What do you think, this one here? Or this one?”

“Oh, definitely this one, it sparkles when you hold it against the light like this!”

“But it’s so heavy!”

“That’s because it’s worth more than your life! You saw how he wore it at that banquet! It goes around the neck, just like this!”

A cold shiver ran down his spine as Yuuri realised what the maids were talking about, and he opened the door, just enough to peek into the room.

The maids stood by his dressing table, their work – baskets with laundry – entirely forgotten on the bed, messing up his sheets, as they rummaged around his jewellery box that he kept by the mirror, holding up his necklaces and earrings to themselves.

Yuuri froze.

“Ooh, that’s a nice one,” the first maid said, reaching into the jewellery box and pulling out what, as Yuuri realised in horror, was a necklace Viktor had bought him on their first evening in Madrid. “Do you think I could wear something like this?”

“Oh absolutely!” The other maid said, carelessly dropping the earrings – a gift from Viktor, too, bought in Brazil – she had been holding onto the dressing table. “Now you just need a nice dress and you’re as good as the Nip.”

“You think so?”

“Uh, of course? With a body like that? In the right dress you could get a man like the Pakhan in no time!”

Yuuri pushed the door open, having heard enough. The maids turned around, merely raising eyebrows as he came in with Makkachin at his side, the dog fixating them with a surprisingly fearless stare. They made no attempt of hiding what they were doing, keeping Yuuri’s jewels on them as if they were theirs, as if he were the intruder, not them.

Yuuri had never felt so humiliated before. It was one thing to ridicule him. But it was something entirely different to speak about Viktor like that.

As if Viktor were theirs to claim.

Yuuri took a deep breath, calming himself down as much as he could, swallowing the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him before he spoke.

“Please leave my room.”

The maids looked at him in disbelief, yes, looked him up and down as if he were not worthy of their gaze the way he looked now, sweaty and exhausted in his ballet clothes, demanding of them to leave him alone.

And then, the first maid laughed, and then the other, and they shook their heads, as if they could not believe the audacity.

Makkachin began to growl, and then she barked, and the women shut up, eyeing the dog warily.

Yuuri grabbed the handle of the door firmly before he raised his voice. “Otabek!”

In an instant, the women dropped the jewellery and stepped back, but it was not before Otabek stepped into the room, despite his short height an imposing figure.

“Your wellborn?”

Yuuri did not look at him. “Remove these women from the premises. They no longer exist here.”

The women’s eyes widened and they began to stutter, crying out that it was all merely a jest, that they had not meant any harm, but Otabek was not listening. Just seconds after he had spoken into his earpiece, the other guards came in, grabbing the women by their arms and dragging them out. Yuuri tried not to listen to their both angry and terrified shouts as they were taken out of his sight by Otabek’s men, kneeling down to cuddle Makkachin instead.

“What do you wish to be done with them, your wellborn?” Otabek asked.

“To have them removed from the premises and from all dealings with the Bratva,” Yuuri murmured, not looking up. “And please be so kind and have the staff assemble in my living room in ten minutes.”

Otabek nodded, never asking too many questions. “The whole staff, your wellborn?”

“From the cooks to the laundress, yes,” Yuuri said and rose again. “In my living room in ten minutes. And no second later.” He looked at Otabek, feeling as if he owed this man, at least, an explanation. “I’ve let things slide for far too long.”

Otabek did not comment on that. “They will be there.”

“Thank you.”

Once he was alone again, Yuuri stripped down and went to the bathroom to take a shower, not checking the time at all. No, he was beyond the point of living his life according to other people’s rules. He might have given the staff ten minutes to come to his rooms, but that did not mean he had to be on time, too. And so, he took his time, playing around with the many products that belonged to Viktor and that he often found ridiculous, smelling them and trying them on his skin until he found one he liked best. He washed his hair, first shampoo, then conditioner, then a mask for his hair that needed ten minutes to take its full effect before it could be washed out. He scrolled through his phone in the meantime, completely nude, snapping a picture to send to Viktor, later, perhaps. He washed out the mask and then dried himself off, sitting around in the fluffy towel for a while and doing the skincare routine that Viktor had recommended a while ago. The clock was ticking, of course, but Yuuri couldn’t have cared less.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a long mustard sweater and black tights, the staff had already been waiting for half an hour. They seemed irritated as Yuuri marched in, all of them looking worried except for Otabek and Yulia, whose faces were as serene as usual.

Yuuri stopped in the middle of the room, right before the servants, only briefly wondering if what he was about to do was right.

But this tiny shadow of doubt disappeared as he saw a maid to his left snicker.

“What is so funny?” Yuuri asked her, his voice hard, and she immediately shut up.

“I’m sorry, your wellborn, but will this take long?” One of the servants asked. “There’s work to do. You could have told us sooner that you wanted to speak with us.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so, no,” he said and took a seat on the sofa – why should he, the Pakhan’s mate, stand before servants? “But I have other things to tell you. For example, that you can throw out those ghastly orchids over there and replace them with flowers that I am not allergic to. I want those gone by tomorrow.”

The servants responsible stared at him with open mouths.

“But they are—”

“And besides, it is a little stifling in here in the mornings,” Yuuri continued, ignoring them entirely. “See to it that the windows are opened here when I’m in the ballet studio.”

“But the windows are heavy! We cannot possibly—”

“Did I stutter?” Yuuri asked, gaze moving to the protesting servant. “What are your hands good for if you don’t use them?”

The man immediately shut up, exchanging confused looks with his colleagues, who seemed equally unsure about the sudden change in Yuuri’s behaviour.

But Yuuri was far from done.

“I have let things slide for far too long,” he said, his voice harder than he had intended, but it fit the occasion. “You may think that just because I’m not Russian, and not everyone’s preferred choice of a mate for the Pakhan, you can do as you like. May I remind you that this is not an ordinary house, but the Pakhan’s estate!” The last words he shouted, and the servants winced at his sudden outburst.

But oh, it felt so good.

“I am the master of this house, whether you like it or not! And you will do your work to the highest standard, and without complaint, and with greatest deference to the Pakhan, and to me! Is that understood?”

Confused and shocked replies came to him in return, the servants stuttering and exchanging uncertain looks with each other at Yuuri’s outburst, but it seemed that finally, even the last one had understood that this was a serious situation, and that Yuuri was not joking.

“I expect that the plants are being taken care of! The floors will be swept daily! The laundry will be folded properly and put away orderly! You will no longer be careless with my mail and bring it to me immediately, or you will be made responsible for missing items! You might think I would not notice all these things, but I did, and I am not willing to put up with this shameful behaviour any longer! This is my house, and you will remember where you stand!”

Yuuri rose from the sofa, startling Makkachin who had come to sit beside him, and he made his way over to his desk where a small porcelain figure – a wedding gift from the Ji family – stood beside a stack of books. He grabbed the figure and held it up for everyone to see. “Did you think I would not notice that this figure has been broken and mended badly? Are you even aware of what this thing costs? What am I supposed to say when the Ji family comes to visit and sees their gift to me in such a horrible state? Do you want to bring shame to the Nikiforov name?” He threw the figure aside, where it shattered into pieces against the wall. “Don’t think that I don’t notice these things, believe me, I see all of it! I have seen your stares and heard you talk about me behind my back, and how you mocked the way I speak, I have seen you touch my jewels and wear them as if they were yours! HOW DARE YOU TO LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!”

* * *

The first thing that Viktor noticed upon stepping into the hall was that there was not a single servant around, the usual busy atmosphere gone all of a sudden, with only the guards left. And even the guards were looking at each other uncomfortably, so much that Viktor was tempted to ask what on earth was going on in his house, when he suddenly heard it.

Through the empty hallways of the house he could hear his Yuuri shout, shout in such anger and rage that it sent shivers down his spine, shivers of many different kinds. Never before had he heard Yuuri’s voice like that, so loud, proud, and with passion, and his feet moved before Viktor even knew what he was doing, leaving behind the utterly confused guards and climbing up the stairs, making his way to his and Yuuri’s private rooms.

And the closer he came, the louder Yuuri’s voice became, and the more he could hear the anger in it, and understood more of it.

“Who do you think you are that you walk around in this place as if it were yours! Who do you think you are that you can be sloppy in your work! This place is not a holiday resort! I expect diligence, deference, and discipline before the Pakhan!”

Viktor stopped in his tracks, just outside Yuuri’s door which stood ajar, wondering if he should go inside. Yuuri had spoken so fiercely and with such _authority_ that Viktor suddenly felt, very, very warm. Had it always been so hot in here? His hand came up to his collar, loosening it just a little, as he listened to his mate exert his power. And the more he listened, the prouder he became, until he could not hold himself back any longer and he marched into Yuuri’s rooms, his head high, eyes only for his mate.

Yuuri was gorgeous, a queen amidst chaos, the shyness and fear that had always surrounded him suddenly gone as he shouted at their servants for reasons that were entirely beyond Viktor, but he could not have cared less. Yuuri was there, and he was loud, he was proud, and he was taking what was rightfully his.

Their eyes met, and Yuuri’s gaze softened for a moment.

Then, he looked back at the servants, and his gaze hardened again, and Viktor wanted to drown in it.

“I hope that I have made myself clear,” Yuuri said, his voice dangerously calm and composed. “Or you will be removed from here and cease to exist in the eyes of the Bratva like the others. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your wellborn,” was the answer that followed immediately, and Viktor noticed that no one, absolutely no one, was daring to look him or Yuuri in the eye. They all kept their gaze lowered and their hands clasped, not a single one of them stepping out of line.

“Well, then get busy! I haven’t got all day!”

At that, the servants almost fled out of the room, every single one of them bowing deep to Viktor in passing, but the Pakhan was not paying attention to them. Within the blink of an eye he had crossed the distance between himself and Yuuri, taking his mate’s hands into his own and kissing his knuckles.

“I must have you now, my jewel,” he whispered and pulled Yuuri closer by the hip. “Now. I cannot wait.”

Yuuri’s gaze softened again now that it was directed at him, and the omega stood on his toes, pressing a gentle kiss to Viktor’s lips.

“Only if you replace all the jewels they tainted with their fingers,” he whispered, taking Viktor by his tie and pulling him into the bedroom, walking across said jewels as if they were dust beneath his feet.

The Pakhan’s bank account was debited with a hefty sum on the very same day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you have been! What are you up to these days? What are your strategies to stay sane?


	18. Adoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hens :-)  
> As we can all do with some... well, happy things these days, I thought I should make this chapter a little more fluff-y and smutty than intended. Sit back and enjoy the Pakhan and his Jewel. And enjoy the Pakhan enjoying his Jewel. And the Pakhan being enjoyed by his Jewel. You get it.

The nights at Yuuri’s side, in their marriage bed, used to be a time of rest for the Pakhan.

However, with the progressing pregnancy of his mate, he found himself in an entirely different situation, with little rest ever given to him and a needy mate at his side, now that they had left the most critical stage behind.

Viktor had lost count of how many times Yuuri had shaken him awake in the middle of the night, one leg already hooked around Viktor’s waist while he kissed down his neck and breathed a gentle yet determined “Vitya, _now_.”

Viktor never had the heart to tell his jewel no.

Yuuri’s morning sickness had disappeared a few weeks further into the pregnancy, and Viktor had never been more relieved. But with its disappearance, new changes had come, and although Viktor loved every single one of them – especially the adorable little bump that had appeared on his jewel –, some of them reminded him that he was not the youngest anymore.

“Vitya…” Yuuri moaned and moved against him. “Need you now…”

Viktor wound his arm around his mate and pulled him on top of him, allowing Yuuri to take full control again. Yuuri happily obliged, pulling up his thin nightgown and sinking down onto Viktor with a satisfied groan, his hands resting on Viktor’s chest for support as he moved his hips in small circles. Viktor’s hands came up to rest on Yuuri’s waist, then running up and down his bare thighs, giving in to the pleasure as Yuuri took from him what he wanted. In the earlier days of their marriage, it would not have been possible for him to simply lay back and let Yuuri have his fun – Yuuri would never have dared to do so.

But since then, many things had changed, and Viktor was incredibly grateful for that.

His back couldn’t always support his mate’s spontaneous nightly activities.

“Vitya…” Yuuri’s moans reached him through the fog of sleepiness that still kept him in its grasp, and Viktor tried his best to reciprocate, giving Yuuri’s hips small squeezes, thrusting up into him, eventually sitting up and wrapping his arms around him. The books had warned him about this, he remembered, about the nightly waves of desire his mate might experience, and how important it was that the alpha took care of them, and gave them the reassurance they were loved and heard. His Yuuri was just like that, holding onto him and moaning, his small hands now on Viktor’s back as they moved together, nails digging into Viktor’s skin.

“Vitya, m-more… I need to feel you… more…”

And Viktor obeyed, laying Yuuri down on the bed and thrusting into him, knowing the angle would allow Yuuri to feel him deeper, and give him just what he wanted. Yuuri whined at the sudden change, but immediately wrapped his legs around Viktor’s waist the moment he had the chance to, pulling the Pakhan closer for a hungry kiss.

Viktor knew then and there that he was the luckiest man alive.

“I’m here, Yuuri, I’m here,” he breathed against his lover’s lips. “Let yourself fall for me.”

It always were words like these that did the trick, making Yuuri lose control and fall for the pleasure, and into heavenly bliss. Yuuri mewled, his nails digging deeper into Viktor’s flesh, marking him as he came with a cry. Viktor smiled to himself and picked up the pace, following his mate with a satisfied groan.

Almost instantly, Yuuri wriggled himself free from Viktor’s grasp and instead wrapped himself around him like an octopus, not caring that they were both sweaty and smeared with god-knows-what, falling asleep again within seconds.

Viktor chuckled to himself, and closed his eyes as well.

The sun and Viktor’s alarm woke them a few hours later, both of them still very much entangled and in absolutely no mood to leave the warmth of the bed. Especially Yuuri, who let out an unhappy whine as his husband moved to turn off the alarm. “….n’t go…”

Viktor yawned and put his phone back down, rolling back over to press a kiss to Yuuri’s tousled hair. “I’m here,” he whispered, and Yuuri buried his face in his neck, as if Viktor were his very personal pillow and radiator, his small bump pressing into Viktor’s stomach.

Viktor found the little bump absolutely irresistible. Of course, it had not appeared there overnight, but had grown slowly and steadily, but it still felt as if one morning, they had woken up to find a visible proof of their little miracle, right there. Viktor never grew tired of touching and kissing Yuuri’s belly, always whispering o the little life growing inside him. Every single time without fail, it made his Yuuri cry, but the tears were always happy ones.

“Sweetheart,” Viktor whispered after a while, gently nudging Yuuri. “I have to get up…”

Yuuri whined, reaching out for Viktor as he climbed out of bed, and Viktor truly did his best, kissing Yuuri’s hand and promising him he would see him later, but this was how it had been every morning since Mari had left.

“Sleep for a little longer, hm?” Viktor said after he had gotten dressed, sitting by Yuuri’s side for another moment. He ran his hand through Yuuri’s hair, stroking his cheek as the young omega tried to curl up against him.

Yuuri was as attached to him as the books had foretold he would be at this stage of the pregnancy. At least four months in, with five more to come.

Viktor removed himself from the bed as soon as it seemed somewhat appropriate and opened the door, spotting Makkachin on the couch. “Makka,” Viktor cooed. “Come!”

Makkachin immediately raised her head, her tail wagging at the prospect of being allowed into the big, warm bed, and she jumped off the couch to follow her master. Viktor patted the mattress for her and Makkachin took his place there, curling up beside Yuuri, who immediately reached out for her and held her close.

“Good girl,” Viktor whispered and scratched her favourite spot before he went to get dressed.

As a boy, he had always admired the people that worked in uniform. Policemen, fire fighters, lift boys. They had seemed very proper to him, all very determined and prepared for their daily tasks. As an adult, and as Pakhan, he had found his very own uniform. The moment he put on his suits and tied the laces of his shoes, he transformed into an entirely different being. From Viktor, the husband, to Viktor Nikiforov, Pakhan of the Bratva.

It was not easy to combine the two.

No, it was best to keep them separate.

Fortunately, his Yuuri had always understood.

He went back to the bedroom once more, finding Yuuri fast asleep with Makkachin at his side, the sight alone warming his heart. A few years ago, he would not have dared to dream of such happiness. It was such a simple thing, really, to watch the person you love sleep peacefully, with not a single worry crossing their mind, and in their belly, the proof of your love for one another growing stronger with every day.

It was such a simple thing, but such bliss.

Chris was waiting for him just outside the apartment as Victor came out, a cup of coffee in his hand and a knowing smile on his face.

“Looking tired, my dear Pakhan,” he said as Viktor took the coffee from him and took a large sip. “Is your mate demanding your attention still?”

“You have no idea,” Viktor murmured.

“I thought you would be happy about this.”

“I am. But I’m…” Viktor sighed.

Chris eyed him in amusement. “Come on. Just say it.”

“Chris…”

“You know it’s the truth.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I’m not the youngest anymore, okay?”

“You’re barely thirty.”

“That’s one foot in the grave.”

“Don’t let your mate hear you’ve said that,” Chris chuckled and pulled out his ever-present iPad. “Alright, so, first thing on our agenda today is a meeting with the Moscow branch. They have arrived earlier this morning and are already waiting in your study.”

“Is it about the shipments from Beijing?” Viktor asked, glancing at the screen.

“They have arrived in Moscow last night,” Chris replied. “Apparently, there are two loads missing. The whole cargo area was searched, of course, but it seems that someone has been doing sloppy work.”

Viktor huffed. “Sloppy work that costs the Bratva hundreds of thousands. We have to see to this. What else?”

“You are having a meeting after lunch with Yakov today,” Chris read out from the calendar on the screen.

“Is that today?” Viktor stopped in his tracks to take Chris’ iPad, checking the date for himself. “I forgot about that…”

“What does he want?” Chris asked. “Did he say?”

“He probably did,” Viktor murmured.

“But you forgot.”

“I can’t remember everything. Not with—”

“—not with your mate pregnant, I know,” Chris said, finishing the sentence to him that seemed to rule all of their lives now. “About that. The men are getting a little… well, antsy. The news has reached every branch of the Bratva now. I do not have to tell you that they are all eagerly awaiting the birth of your heir. I have heard that some of them are betting on the child’s gender.”

Viktor raised his head, looking at Chris in utter disgust. “I will not tolerate such behaviour,” he said, giving him the iPad back. “My child is none of their concern. See to it that this ends. No speculation about the gender or anything else, is that understood?”

“Yes, Viktor,” Chris said, lowering his voice just a little as the Pakhan’s entire posture changed. Viktor had always been protective of his family, especially of Yuuri, and now, it seemed, even more so about their child. Entirely understandable in Chris’ eyes.

But he also was no fool, and neither was Viktor. Yuuri’s pregnancy was not just a happy chance, but what the entire Bratva, if not the entire criminal world, had been waiting for. It marked the beginning of a new era and, above all, was a declaration of Viktor’s power. Although Chris was only a beta, he understood the game of alpha dominance as if he were part of it. Yuuri’s pregnancy was proof of Viktor’s power, of his virility and authority – over his omega, over Yuuri’s body, and consequently, over the Bratva. By having an heir of his own blood, Viktor was securing and confirming his status as the head of the Bratva, and that the rest had to bow to him.

It was as simple as that.

And Yuuri carried Viktor’s key to the future below his heart.

They entered the reception room before his study together, where Mila already sat at her desk and typed away. Upon them coming in, she looked up and wished them a good morning before exchanging a knowing look with Chris that Viktor didn’t see. But his friend stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder, just before he could enter his study where the Moscow delegation would be waiting for him.

“Ah, Viktor,” Chris said carefully, pulling him back. “Maybe you want to shave before you go in and take them apart? You look a little…” He glanced at Mila before meeting Viktor’s confused gaze. “Well. Worn out.”

“Why?” Viktor asked, hand coming up to his face. “Because of the beard?”

“Yes. What’s up with that?”

Viktor frowned, running his hand over his cheek and chin. “If you think that I have forgotten to shave, then you are mistaken. My Yuuri has taken a liking to it, if you must know. Hence, I am keeping it.”

“Oh,” Chris said in surprise. “I didn’t know.”

“Now you know,” Viktor said and buttoned his jacket once more to make sure it sat properly. “Mila, since we’re talking about it, be a dear and book a barber for tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, Viktor,” she said, but couldn’t hide a giggle as she reached for the phone.

Viktor was known for being more than just a bit vain when it came to his appearance.

“Well then,” Viktor said and sighed, running a hand through his hair before pushing down the handle of the door, entering his study.

Whenever the Pakhan entered a room, it was the same picture. The men would rise from their chairs and bow their heads to him, the man that kept them alive and breathing and to whom they gave their entire lives and loyalty. In return, the Pakhan would give them a brief nod and gesture for them to take a seat again – if he was in a good mood.

If he was not, he would let them stand.

Viktor had not quite decided yet what to do as he walked in and saw his men from Moscow, all of them familiar faces, more or less. He walked around them towards his desk, his gaze immediately dropping down to the framed picture of his mate that he kept there, reminding him for whom he was doing all this, for whom he was living. Taking a seat, he clasped his hands on top of his closed laptop, and sought the gaze of his Moscow representative.

“I heard that two loads are missing,” Viktor said in a low voice, foregoing a greeting. “Care to explain?”

The man before him, a tall, burly man called Lebedev that had also worked for his late father, cleared his throat. “We have searched the entire cargo area, Sir,” he explained. “The loads must have been taken away before we reached Moscow. The only other stop we had was Busan. Therefore, we believe that the Lee family—”

“Do you have proof, Lebedev?” Viktor interrupted him calmly. “Do not accuse the Lee family of theft without proof. They have always been loyal to the Bratva, and Lee Min-jung is a personal friend of mine. She has no reason to meddle with our business.”

Lebedev bowed his head. “Of course, Sir. I would never dare to accuse Lady Lee of ill intentions.”

“Then why mention them, if you don’t mean it that way?”

“I was wondering, Sir, if there were renegades among the Koreans helping the Chinese. Not the Ji family, but the Bin family.”

“There are rumours, Sir, about a dispute between Bin and Ji,” the man next to Lebedev said. “Apparently, Leroy was involved, too.”

“It is always Leroy,” Viktor muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. Then, he raised his head, looking Lebedev in the eye. “And yet, it should be a simple thing to keep all loads secure and together. To make sure not a single one gets lost. Are you even aware how much this costs us? How much this costs me?”

Lebedev immediately went down to his knees, and so did the rest of the men. “Sir, I will take full responsibility!” He exclaimed and bowed his head. “I will not rest until I have brought justice to the Bratva!”

But before Viktor could reply that he could not care less about Lebedev’s false feelings of honour, the door flew open. Yuuri came in, clad in nothing but his dressing gown, his feet bare and his eye shining in excitement. Viktor immediately rose, but Yuuri was faster, and the omega ignored the kneeling men entirely as he walked around them and fled into Viktor’s arms.

“What is it, my jewel?” Viktor asked worriedly, not used to Yuuri coming into his study at this time of the day, dressed in almost nothing, and he hoped that his mate had a very good reason for doing so. But Yuuri only beamed at him and grabbed his hand, pressing it against his stomach. “What—”

The words died on Viktor’s tongue as he felt it.

He sank down into his chair again and Yuuri slipped onto his lap, lacing their fingers together on his belly as they felt their child move for the very first time.

Yuuri was smiling, smiling with such happiness that it made Viktor’s heart ache. The movements of their child were small, barely noticeable but definitely there, and all of a sudden, Viktor realised that this was actually happening.

He was going to be a father.

Yuuri was carrying their child.

“Does it hurt?” He asked quietly, barely able to speak, but Yuuri kept on smiling, shaking his head. Together, they followed the movements of their baby with their joined hands, and a soft giggle escaped Yuuri as the baby kicked right into Viktor’s palm, making him hold his breath.

Yuuri was carrying a miracle. There was no other explanation to that.

“Oh, my jewel,” Viktor whispered and brought his other hand up to Yuuri’s cheek, pulling him in for a tender kiss. And Yuuri happily obliged, settling further into his lap and burying his face in Viktor’s shoulder. Their hands on his belly remained joined, never letting go of the other.

In moments like these, Viktor knew, an omega needed their alpha’s touch, their alpha’s comfort, more than ever before. And so, he held Yuuri close, and caressed his belly, as he returned his attention to his men – albeit reluctantly.

“Lebedev,” he said, and the man raised his head again. “You have been loyal to my father, and now you are loyal to me. At least, that is what you claim to be.”

“I am loyal to you, Sir!” Lebedev exclaimed and shuffled forward on his knees. “My life belongs to the Bratva entirely! I would lay down my life for you!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Viktor replied. “But your work was sloppy. And my mate here despises sloppy work. Don’t you remember what happened all those months ago, when my jewel’s servants thought they could get away with sloppy work?”

Lebedev’s eyes widened. “S-Sir—”

“You don’t want history to repeat itself, I assume,” Viktor said and reached for the glass of water that Mila always put on his desk in the mornings, taking a sip. “You don’t want to end like many of my jewel’s servants did. Forgotten. Worthless. In the dust.”

Lebedev threw himself to Viktor’s feet completely, just like the rest of them, the most pathetic sight Viktor had had in weeks.

“It will never happen again!” He cried out. “We will bring honour to the Bratva! We will find the lost loads and bring them back! We will return what is rightfully yours!”

Viktor sighed heavily and looked down at his mate on his lap, gently stroking his belly and making Yuuri purr in delight. It was one of his favourite pastimes, making Yuuri purr like that, for it meant that his mate was comfortable, and felt loved.

Yuuri deserved to feel loved at all times. That he, and their child, would always come first. Regardless of the demanding business they had been born into. And yet, far too often, Viktor had to leave his side although he did not want to, had to promise Yuuri a thousand things, before he could return to him.

If it only were easier for them, he thought, and placed his hand on top of Yuuri’s, his thumb brushing the sapphire ring his mate was wearing.

The very first gift Viktor had ever made him, and, according to Yuuri, the most precious of them all.

Perhaps it was time to gift him a pair of diamond earrings, Viktor thought and kissed Yuuri’s hair. Just another, little reminder of his love and adoration for him. Only the best for his jewel.

“Very well, Lebedev,” Viktor said and looked up. “I shall give you another chance. But let me assure you that my patience is wearing thin with you.”

Lebedev’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Thank you, Sir! I will not disappoint you! None of us will disappoint you!”

“Do not make promises if you cannot be sure to keep them,” Viktor gave back, the conversation already boring him to death. “Get back to Korea and sort this out. And if you ever insult Lady Lee again she will hear about this. You know how easily she forgets to be nice. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” Lebedev and his men said in unison, and Viktor nodded.

“You are dismissed.”

The men immediately rose to their feet and bowed deeply to their Pakhan before hurrying out of the room, glad to have escaped a death sentence once more. Only as the door fell shut behind them did Yuuri raise his head again, in his eyes clear amusement.

“What?” Viktor asked with a chuckle.

“All this fuss just because of two lost loads?” Yuuri asked softly, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s jaw.

“I cannot allow them to think I am becoming soft on them,” Viktor replied. “I have to be strict.”

“As long as you are not strict to me,” Yuuri hummed and kissed Viktor’s cheek before he began to smile. “I love your beard.”

Viktor grinned. “Oh, really? I truly had no idea.”

“Tsk.” Yuuri shook his head and ran his fingertips across the soft stubble on Viktor’s cheeks. “It looks lovely on you. Makes you look like a delinquent.”

At that, Viktor laughed out loud. “What, only with a beard I look like one? What about my title as Pakhan?”

Yuuri huffed. “You know I could not care less about that title. You could be a postman for all I care. I would still love you.”

“Aw, Yuuri,” Viktor said with a smile and pecked his lover’s lips. “You are the sweetest. Could you imagine that? Me, a postman. Living in a lovely, little cottage with you.”

Yuuri sank deeper into his embrace, resting his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “That sounds lovely. Just you, and me, and our little one.”

“I’d make you breakfast every morning,” Viktor whispered into Yuuri’s ear. “I’d make you tea and miso soup, and the bread you like so much. And I’d bring it to you on a tray.”

“And then we would go and look after our little one,” Yuuri said, playing with the hair in Viktor’s neck, just the way the alpha liked it so very much. “And they would be already waiting for us, with their little hands reaching out for Mummy and Daddy. And we would kiss them all over.”

Viktor loved this little fantasy more than he would like to admit. But this was the kind of life he wanted with his mate, and with their child. A life that was quiet, calm, peaceful.

“Every day, I would go to work,” Viktor continued softly, rubbing Yuuri’s belly ever so tenderly, feeling the baby kick against his palm. “And in the evenings, I would come home with a bouquet of flowers for my jewel.”

“How sweet of you,” Yuuri smiled, nuzzling Viktor’s neck. “And I would have dinner ready for you. And our little angel would squeal in delight upon you coming home.”

“Such a wonderful dream,” Viktor murmured. “And sadly, only a dream.”

They were quiet after that, the only sounds coming from the reception room outside Viktor’s study. They could hear Mila talk on the phone, probably to her wife, as she kept laughing and giggling. Mila’s wife lived in Rome, where she ran a fashion company, and Viktor knew they didn’t see each other that much these days – the last thing he would think of now was reprimanding Mila for having private conversations at work.

No, he would certainly do the same, if he and Yuuri were in that situation.

“You know what,” Viktor said after a while and gently grasped Yuuri’s chin. “You and I, we should go on a little holiday. What would you say to, let’s say, Venice?”

Yuuri chuckled, leaning into Viktor’s touch. “What’s brought that on?” He asked softly.

“You don’t like Venice?”

“I have never been to Venice, Viktor, but I would love to go. I just wonder why you want to suddenly want to go on a holiday.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “Can a man not want to steal his mate away for a while?” He asked and pecked Yuuri’s lips playfully. “Think about it, will you?”

“I will,” Yuuri promised and gave him another kiss, just before he slipped off his lap and smoothed out his dressing gown. “Now I think I should get dressed before the little one and I catch a cold.”

“Indeed!” Viktor agreed and rose as well, taking off his suit jacket and putting it around Yuuri to keep him warm, not caring that the whole estate was well-heated. “I won’t have you getting sick, darling. Let me take you back to your rooms, yes?”

“Do I even have a choice?” Yuuri asked with a laugh as he was lifted into his husband’s arms and carried out of the room like a bride.

Neither of them cared that the men of the Bratva were watching them, the Pakhan and his mate in love, looking at each other in utter adoration. Only as they were alone again, in the sanctuary of their private rooms, did they share a few more kisses.

“Think about the holiday,” Viktor said as he kissed Yuuri one last time. “Just the three of us.”

“I will,” Yuuri promised, a hand on his belly. “I’ll let you know.”

Viktor knelt down before his mate and put his hands on his bump, pressing a gentle kiss to it through the fabric of Yuuri’s dressing gown. “Take care of Mummy until I’m back,” he whispered before he rose to his feet again, giving his mate a final kiss before he forced himself to get back to work, a smile on his lips as he walked back to his study to his next meeting. His men were already there, rising as the Pakhan came in, jacket unbuttoned but with determination in his step.

“Well, then,” Viktor said and took a seat at his desk, clasping his hands. “Shall we begin?”

* * *

In the end, Yuuri realised that a holiday was probably not the worst idea of his husband – after all, they had had so much to do, so much to organise and so many guests to host in the past that they had had hardly any time solely for themselves. No one could tell how soon they would be able to travel again once the baby was born.

Phichit approved of their plans as well when Yuuri asked him. “I think it is a great idea,” he said over a cup of coffee and the latest fashion magazines he had studied together with Yuuri. “Get some rest, some quality time with your husband if you know what I mean.” He winked at Yuuri, who promptly rolled his eyes but blushed nonetheless.

“I mean,” Phichit said, turning the pages of the magazine on his lap, “you’ve been not exactly celibate anyway. The poor maid has to change your sheets every single day. At least it’s healthy. Don’t mind me, I’m just jealous.”

Yuuri laughed. “You have no reason to be jealous. Haven’t you been going out with Chris? That was your… sixth date with him last night?”

“The seventh,” Phichit replied with a heavy sigh.

Yuuri regarded him carefully. “You do not look too happy.”

“I am!” Phichit exclaimed quickly. “I mean, I am happy to date him, Chris is really fun and everything, but… I mean, it’s… I don’t know how to… approach things.”

Yuuri frowned softly. “Approach things? I thought Chris was definitely interested.”

“He is!” Phichit groaned and shook his head, as if he could not believe what he was about to say. “Yuuri, the thing is that… I’ve never done _it_ , okay? And it’s embarrassing.”

Yuuri blinked.

Phichit raised his head and looked at Yuuri for a moment before taking a rather large sip from his coffee.

“Why embarrassing?” Yuuri asked with a small frown, moving closer to Phichit on the sofa. “Phichit, it’s nothing to be ashamed of—"

“I’m not ashamed,” Phichit sighed. “It’s just… Chris is so experienced and confident. In everything he does. He can just approach someone and start flirting, and it works every single time. He’s so…” He gestured broadly with his hand before letting it drop to his lap. “I’m pathetic compared to him.”

Yuuri moved the magazines out of the way and took Phichit’s hands into his own. “I met Chris when I was fifteen. When he came to ask for my hand in marriage in Viktor’s name. Believe me, he almost shat his pants when he was interrogated by my mother. He’s terrified of my sister. And Viktor told me that although Chris flirts with literally every breathing thing, he’s only had one boyfriend so far, and one night stands are apparently not his thing, regardless of his reputation. I’m pretty sure that he won’t care that you—”

“Only one boyfriend?!”

Yuuri nodded. “Did you not talk about past partners?”

Phichit shook his head. “We… don’t talk that much about these things. We mostly hate on the criminal world together.”

At that, Yuuri laughed, and Phichit could not help but chuckle as well.

“You know what,” Yuuri said and put his hand on his belly. “Viktor and I go on that trip to Venice, and you spend time with Chris. I’m sure I can handle a few days without you. Viktor won’t let me even lift a finger anyway. And you need that quiet time with Chris, I think. What do you say?”

Phichit regarded him for a moment, looking rather thoughtful for a man that usually was always so very cheerful. “Okay,” he said after a moment and gave Yuuri a firm nod. “Yes, you take your holiday and I’ll spend time with Chris. And sort stuff out. My mother wants me to call more often.”

“Just like mine,” Yuuri said and smiled, although the thought of Phichit’s family always left him uneasy. He could not stop thinking about what Mari had told him, about the letters from Phichit’s father, and how unsettled their uncle had been by them. But Phichit rarely ever spoke about his father, and Yuuri knew that it was because Phichit did not really have any sort of relationship with the man – simply because he was a beta and therefore deemed useless. To think that Phichit, his best friend, would know anything about the past, and the current events – it was unthinkable.

And yet, the uneasy feeling in Yuuri’s stomach remained.

* * *

Yuuri told Viktor about his decision over dinner, and the alpha was overjoyed to hear that they would indeed go on a holiday – so much that he promptly presented Yuuri with a new pair of diamond earrings.

Said earrings now ornamented Yuuri’s earlobes as they boarded their private plane to Italy, matching the diamond necklace he had picked out in the morning. It was a sunny day, and it would be even warmer in Venice, and so, Yuuri had chosen to wear a dress that went down to his ankles but was wide enough to let him walk comfortably.

It helped, of course, that the dress hugged his baby bump just right, in a way that made Viktor wrap his arm around his waist in the most protective way and glare at everyone that dared to look their way.

Yuuri was very flattered.

Viktor held his hand throughout take-off, already listing all the things that they could see and do in Venice, but above all, Viktor wanted to spend time with Yuuri. After all, they could not know how much they would be able to travel once their little one was here, and how much private time they would have left solely for themselves.

Viktor needed a holiday, Yuuri thought, probably more than he did. But the sight of Viktor sitting beside him, relaxed and with his tie loosened, told him that they had done the right thing. A holiday, of just the two of them (with the appropriate number of guards lurking in the background), was what they needed now.

“I am so glad we are doing this, my jewel,” Viktor said, as if he had been reading his mate’s thoughts, and brought Yuuri’s hand to his lips. “Look at you. You look most divine in that dress. And those earrings suit you so well.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said with a smile. “My husband gave them to me.”

“Oh?” Viktor raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Your husband, you say? Is he to your liking?”

“Very much so,” Yuuri laughed, loving the playfulness of his beloved. “He is very much to my liking. I love him very much. And I am the most obedient to him.”

“Are you, hm?” Viktor asked and moved a little closer, a hand on Yuuri’s thigh. “He must be truly remarkable, that husband of yours.”

Yuuri leant forward, placing his hand on top of Viktor’s on his thigh. “He is,” he said softly and leant closer to whisper into Viktor’s ear: “He’s the Pakhan of the Bratva. And I carry his heir.”

A low growl escaped Viktor, and Yuuri knew that it was an involuntary one – but he had that much power over Viktor, despite being only his mate, only an omega. Deep down, Viktor was just like any other alpha. Proud, and with an inclination to exerting his authority and masculinity. And there truly was no better proof to that than a child growing in an omega’s belly.

“You are becoming more and more irresistible with every day, my jewel,” Viktor whispered into Yuuri’s ear, the hand on his thigh wandering further up. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself until we are in Venice…”

“I fear you will have to,” Yuuri said softly, gently but firmly pressing down on Viktor’s hand to keep it in place. “The stewardess will serve lunch soon, and I am so very hungry…”

“Bozhe moy, so am I,” Viktor breathed and cupped Yuuri’s cheek, leaning in to kiss his lips – just as the stewardess came in with the cart of food, and Yuuri carefully, but firmly, pushed Viktor away. “In Venice, Vitya,” he whispered and pecked his lips before smoothing out his dress to look nice and proper, thanking the woman as she served them their meal.

Beside him, Viktor let out an annoyed huff, but said nothing.

It was mean, Yuuri knew that, to play with Viktor like this, but he knew his husband very well. It was one thing to be madly in love with one another, but an alpha would always be an alpha. And every alpha loved the game of conquering and seduction.

Including Viktor.

“I have booked us a private apartment just in the very heart of Venice, my jewel,” Viktor said after a while, after pushing around the food on his plate like a sulking child that did not get what it wanted. “No one will disturb us there. And I’ll cook the most delicious things for you. Would you like that?”

“Very much so,” Yuuri nodded and took a small sip from his water. “I hope you thought of the bathtub.”

“Of course, I did,” Viktor assured him. “Maybe we could take a bath together tonight…?”

The way he smiled at him told Yuuri what kind of bath his husband had in mind for them – and truly, the image in his head was a wonderful one, sitting with Viktor in a large tub, being worshipped by him until he couldn’t come to a single proper thought anymore.

But for the sake of their little game, Yuuri had to make Viktor suffer a little.

And so, he yawned. “Maybe, yes,” he sighed and put down his fork and knife, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. “God, I am so tired… I might sleep through the entire day and the whole night… the little one is so active these days…”

He did not have to open his eyes to know that Viktor was incredibly frustrated, but tried to not let it show. He could only hear Viktor’s sigh, and then him calling for the stewardess to clear away their plates.

Yuuri actually dozed off after a while, only waking up when Viktor gently shook him awake after they had landed. A car was waiting for them to take them as close to the hotel as possible. From there, a private boat would bring them to their final destination.

Yuuri put on his sunglasses – Chanel, of course, a gift from Viktor – and followed his husband out of the plane and to the car, watching the alpha closely. It was remarkable how different Viktor was each time they left Russia, how he seemed to become an entirely different person: Livelier, more positive, less somber. He became the Viktor that he had been on their honeymoon again, the Viktor that Yuuri had fallen in love with. Of course, Yuuri loved Viktor at all times, regardless of where they were, and what challenges they had to face.

But this particular Viktor was special to him, and Yuuri wished he could have him all year round.

Viktor’s arm held him in a firm embrace as they got on the boat that would bring them to the hotel, making sure Yuuri would not slip and hurt himself and the baby. The baby, however, seemed not to like being on a boat, and Yuuri felt a little sick when they finally arrived at the hotel, and he had to take a few deep breaths.

Viktor noticed, of course, and immediately had him take a seat in the lobby as he went to get the keys for their room. Whilst Viktor was gone – leaving Yuuri in the care of four capable bodyguards – he sent a text to Phichit to tell him that they had arrived safely. As a response, Phichit sent him a photo of the picnic he and Chris were having.

A picnic, Yuuri realised, was something he and Viktor had not had in a very long time.

His phone buzzed again, this time, a proper message from Phichit.

_My mother says hi, by the way!_

That reminded Yuuri that he had to call his own mother soon, or she would begin to worry.

Just then, Viktor came back, a silver key in his left hand, holding out the other to Yuuri.

“I’ve made sure the fridge is stocked up for us,” he said as Yuuri rose. “Are you alright?”

Yuuri nodded, linking his arm with Viktor’s. “I just remembered that I have to call my mother soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Having plans for today already?” Viktor asked, and the expectant smile returned to his face.

Yuuri grinned. “Lots. For example, sleep. Read a book. Watch television. Do you think we have a large television in our room?”

Of course, that was not the answer that Viktor wanted at all, but it was all part of the game. And so, Yuuri only smiled to himself as they went to the elevator together and made their way up to their room.

Their room, of course, turned out to be a luxurious apartment with a full kitchen, a small dining room, a living room with a large television, a bedroom with another big television screen, and a bathroom that looked like it was part of a Venetian palace. The bathtub alone was so big that they could have comfortably bathed with two more people. But Yuuri pretended not to care about that at all, but only about the large bed, onto which he lowered himself with a heavy sigh.

“Goodness, I am tired,” Yuuri yawned and curled up on the sheets as Viktor gave the concierge a massive tip for bringing up their suitcases. “Vitya… I think I’ll take a nap now… will you cook dinner?” He opened his eyes to look at Viktor over his shoulder, making sure to pout a little.

Viktor visibly swallowed at the sight of his mate, but nodded, albeit with disappointment. “Of course, darling.”

The moment his husband had left the bedroom, Yuuri went to work.

He sat up and slipped out of bed, taking off the dress and folding it neatly before going to the bathroom next door, carefully turning on the tap to fill the bathtub. Next, he added some of the oils waiting to be used, and then wrapped himself into a fluffy towel before sitting down to wait for the bathtub to be completely filled. He could hear Viktor moving around in the kitchen, talking to someone on the phone – probably his brother, judging by the tone of his voice.

Yuuri turned off the tap, carefully dipping his toe into the water to check the temperature. It was not meant to be too hot, and the baby certainly would not enjoy a very hot bath either.

But for tonight’s purpose, it was perfect.

Yuuri carefully opened the bathroom door and slowly made his way to the main room. Viktor had his back to him, searching through the fridge whilst holding his phone to his ear.

“I know, Yura, it’s annoying, but I won’t write you an excuse for economics. You need that grade. And no, I won’t—Yura, I swear, this is—”

“Viktor?”

Yuuri licked his lips as his husband turned around, a hand holding the towel in place. He had chosen a smaller one on purpose, one that would show off his thigh, and just a little bit of his bump. Fortunately, it had the desired effect.

Viktor’s jaw dropped.

“I’m taking a bath,” Yuuri said softly, as if he had not been teasing his husband all day. “Would you like to join me?”

Viktor swallowed.

“Sorry, Yura,” he said, never taking his eyes off his mate. “Yuuri needs me.”

And with that, he hung up, tossed his phone aside and approached Yuuri with big steps – but Yuuri held out his hand, stopping him just at arm’s length, and smiled.

“Watch me,” he whispered and turned around, walking away, back to the bathroom.

Just there, at the door, he dropped the towel, and went inside.

It did not take Viktor long to follow him.

Yuuri was not even fully in the bathtub as he felt Viktor’s arms around him, his husband’s bare chest against his back, the alpha having undressed with record speed – and something large and hard pressing against his behind, leaving nothing to interpretation of what it was that Viktor desired.

“You little minx,” Viktor breathed as he pressed countless kisses to Yuuri’s neck. “Tempting me like this all day and pushing me away every single time… you can be grateful you have a patient alpha…”

Yuuri chuckled, tilting his head to the side as his husband kissed him there. “I am,” he purred. “So very grateful.”

With one final graceful movement, they sank into the hot water, and Yuuri leant back against his husband with a sigh. But Viktor was not done yet, kissing and sucking on his neck as if to mark Yuuri there, to declare that he was his, for the rest of the world to see.

“Others would not be so patient with me,” Yuuri purred, closing his eyes and taking Viktor’s hands, bringing them around his waist to rest on his belly. “But you are. You, my alpha… my husband… the only one who gets to have me… ahhh…” Viktor gently bit down on his neck in a playful manner, just as his hand slipped between Yuuri’s legs.

“You might need another reminder of that, my jewel,” Viktor whispered into his ear. “Do you really know to whom you belong? After your behaviour today, I am not so sure.”

“Vitya…” Yuuri breathed, his head falling back onto Viktor’s shoulder. “I will always be yours… I carry the proof… under my heart…”

“Indeed, you do,” Viktor growled, just as he slipped two fingers into Yuuri, and the omega gasped at the intrusion, immediately sinking into the pleasure. Had it truly been so long since they had last taken so much time for each other? To simply share a bath, and make each other feel good and wanted? Of course, they had mated, many times in the middle of the night because of the burning desire that Yuuri felt due to the pregnancy. But it was not the same.

“Look at you, my jewel,” Viktor whispered as he moved his fingers. “You played this game to tempt me, and now you are like wax in my arms. You are desperate for my touch. Even more than I am for yours. What does that say about you, I wonder… can you tell me, my darling? What does that tell me?”

Yuuri whined as another finger was added, stretching him just right. “That… that I am yours, Vitya…” he breathed, biting his lower lip. “Only… only yours…”

Behind him, he heard Viktor chuckle, his chest vibrating. “That is right, my jewel,” he hummed, kissing Yuuri’s jaw. “You only belong to me. I am the only one who gets to have you. To enjoy you. Your body is only meant for me. Only I will make you see the stars and sing. Only in my arms you will find the greatest of pleasures.”

Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, and Yuuri whined at their loss. “Vitya… need you…”

His husband kissed his neck. “So desperate, my jewel,” he hummed, running his hand up Yuuri’s belly. “But first, tell me…”

Yuuri shivered as Viktor pulled him closer, feeling him pushing at his entrance, the mere feeling almost driving him mad.

“You have been so good, my Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. “But tell me… when this little one is born… will you be a good omega and bear me another? Will you let me have you, again, and again, until your belly swells with my seed once more? Until you carry a new life?”

“I will!” Yuuri breathed, instinctively pushing his hips back to meet Viktor’s, gasping as his husband entered him just barely. “I will be a good omega, Vitya… I will bear you child after child if you deem me worthy—ah!”

He threw his head back as Viktor finally entered him completely, when their bodies finally became one, with no more barrier between them.

For a moment, they sat like this, Yuuri breathing heavily on Viktor’s lap, leaning against him as he adjusted to the feeling of his husband inside him. Neither of them spoke, the only sounds being their heavy breaths and the movement of the water surrounding them.

“I deem you the most worthy, my jewel,” Viktor whispered finally, and began to thrust into his mate.

Yuuri cried out and grabbed the edge of the bathtub for support, but Viktor held him, held him so close that Yuuri felt unable to distinguish between Viktor’s body and his own, both of them moving in the same rhythm. They hardly ever did it like this, in the bath, with Yuuri on Viktor’s lap but oh, he found that he loved it very much. Viktor’s arms were firmly wrapped around his waist, his hands cradling his hips and belly, holding him in a gentle embrace that Yuuri never wanted to escape again. Once more, he realised how truly lucky he was – that he was not the mate of an alpha that kept an omega solely for pleasure and reproduction, that would prefer him with the face down and his legs open at all times.

Viktor loved him.

And Yuuri loved him so much in return that it hurt.

“Have me, Vitya,” he cried, just as the pleasure became almost unbearable. “Have me!”

And then, with a final thrust, Yuuri fell over the edge, crying out in ecstasy as he collapsed against his alpha, and time no longer had any meaning.

He felt Viktor lift him out of the water and carry him back to the bed, not caring that they were both wet as he was put down on the mattress and Viktor climbed over him, his hands moving under Yuuri’s thighs to keep his legs apart. Yuuri managed to open his eyes, still breathing heavily as he looked at his husband, his alpha, and was shaken by the fact how powerful Viktor was as he knelt above him, ready to take what was his.

And that Viktor, despite being the king of the underworld, would never take it with force.

Yuuri lifted his hand, bringing it up to Viktor’s face. “Love me, Vitya.”

And Viktor loved him well that night.


	19. Confidant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again!  
> It's been two hellish months and to be honest, I don't remember A SINGLE DAY of the month of April. What the fuck was that, even. As some of you might now, I struggled a lot with this chapter, but the last few days, the writer's block finally disappeared. 
> 
> Please note: This chapter will be the LAST of the Pre-Phichit chapters. All following chapters (unless indicated otherwise) will be set in the PRESENT. In baby times. Yes, baby times. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Precisely six months after getting married Yuuri received a most mysterious message.

He had been sitting in the garden with Makkachin, talking to the gardeners about the new arrangements for the flower beds when Otabek came walking towards them on the carefully cut grass. By now, it was mid-June, and the weather so good most of the time that Yuuri could spend entire days outdoors, enjoying the fresh air and the sunlight. Viktor joined him as often as possible, even taking entire days off just to be with him. They had made love several times there, too, behind bushes, against trees, or simply right there, on the bench he was now sitting on.

But today, he was on his own as Otabek approached him, in his hand a piece of paper. “Your wellborn?”

Yuuri, who had been entirely lost in his conversation with the gardener, turned his head in surprise. His gaze fell onto the paper in Otabek’s hands.

“We’ll talk about the tulips later, Nikita,” he said softly to the gardener before rising and turning around to Otabek. Otabek waited until the gardener had walked away before he spoke.

“This was sent to my work email address,” he said, giving Yuuri the paper. “Sara Crispino is asking for a meeting with you via video call.”

Yuuri frowned and unfolded the paper, which turned out to be a print-out of an e-mail. The sender of the message was not Sara Crispino herself, Yuuri noticed, but most likely her personal secretary.

“Isn’t she married to Mila?” Yuuri asked in confusion, looking up at his guard. “Why not contact me through Mila?”

Otabek clasped his hands behind his back. “Perhaps she is trying to avoid the official route.”

“You mean my husband.”

“Yes, your wellborn. Mila works closely with him. Perhaps she thought it too dangerous.”

Yuuri nodded, scanning the e-mail once more.

“But what could Sara Crispino possibly want from me?” He wondered. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Can you write them back and ask for more details?”

“Will do,” Otabek said and took the paper back from Yuuri before walking back to the house.

Yuuri sighed and reached down to cuddle Makkachin, burying his hands in her fur. It was soothing to do so, at all times. Makkachin was warm and soft, always sensing when things troubled him or Viktor. She would always come to cuddle with them, just like she did now, and rest her head on their laps. Of course she would notice that he was not feeling very well. For in the morning, he had woken up to finding his knickers soaked in blood.

Yuuri had not cried, but he had been upset nonetheless.

Viktor had kissed him, and had held him, and had told him that he loved him before leaving to drive to St. Petersburg for a meeting.

Yuuri could not shake off the thought that something had to be wrong with him.

He remembered well what the doctors had said about his fertility, when he had become engaged to Victor without ever having seen him. Both Japanese and Russian doctors had assured both parties that he was highly fertile, yes, even destined for bearing children.

Now, six months later, he still had nothing to show.

“For now, you’ll have to be my baby, Makka,” Yuuri murmured and kissed the dog’s head before pulling her closer. “All of this is too much sometimes.”

That was something Yuuri thought quite often these days, although the situation had improved significantly after taking control over the household. No longer did the servants and maids talk about him behind his back or treat him with disrespect. Quite a lot of them had been replaced eventually, replaced with people that Yuuri could trust and did not have to fear. He had chosen them with Yulia’s help, all of them people from the area that needed the money and would work hard for it. And since Viktor was known for paying exceptionally well, they were willing to ignore the fact they were working for the Bratva now.

But the role of being Viktor’s mate, being the mate of the Pakhan, was still too much for Yuuri on many days.

There were so many expectations resting on his shoulders; expectations he had been aware of since the day his mother had told him what it meant to be an omega. They wanted him to be a pretty thing hanging on Viktor’s arm, to be seen and not be heard, to enchant guests and to be the proof of Viktor’s power and virility by bearing his children – preferably strong, male alphas.

Yuuri rarely ever felt beautiful or enchanting.

The lack of a baby was an entirely different issue.

Yes, it was all a bit too much sometimes.

“Come, Makka,” Yuuri sighed and rose from the bench. “Let’s go back inside.”

Makkachin barked and wagged her tail, proudly walking beside Yuuri as they went back to the house and upstairs to the apartment. The men they encountered on the way turned their heads away from them as Yuuri walked past them, none of them allowed to look at him directly by Viktor’s orders. At least that made things a little easier for him.

Otabek came back when Yuuri sat on the couch with Makkachin over his lap and a Russian soap on the large television. “I asked Miss Crispino’s secretary to call me later,” he said and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Thank you,” Yuuri said and glanced at the clock hanging over the television on the wall. “Should Yura not be here already?”

Otabek glanced at his own watch. “Soon, I think,” he said, as if he had not memorised Yuri’s entire schedule. Despite his stoic, calm behaviour, he was not able to fool Yuuri. He knew that Otabek was probably the most excited of them all to see Viktor’s brother again.

“A car has been sent to pick him up from the station, right?” Yuuri asked, knowing very well how bad his husband’s memory could be.

“The driver has left fifteen minutes ago,” Otabek replied, and Yuuri sank back into the cushions, relieved. The last thing he needed now, additionally to his ever-growing headache, was an angry teenage alpha in the house.

“Then he will be here soon,” he said, running his hand through Makkachin’s soft fur. “Do you have any plans, you and Yura?”

Otabek shifted a little from one foot to the other. “I suppose that there will be a lot of gaming.”

Yuuri smiled. “Probably.”

Just then they heard the heavy footsteps outside the door, followed by a loud shout: “Oi! Anyone here?”

Yuuri chuckled and gently pushed Makkachin off his lap to get up, just as the door opened and Yuri walked in, a bag over his shoulder and his hair longer than ever before. It suited him, Yuuri thought, making him look even more like a teenage delinquent. He wore a sweater with a tiger printed on the front and heavy boots with spikes.

Makkachin barked happily and rushed to greet him, knocking the boy over before anyone could stop her.

“Makka, stop,” Yuuri laughed and got up from the sofa, but Otabek had already reached for Makkachin’s collar and pulled her off the young alpha. “Sorry. You know how she excited she can be.”

Yuri huffed and sat up, pushing his blonde hair out of his face. “It’s just Makkachin,” he muttered and got to his feet again. “You’re pale,” he said to Yuuri after studying him for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Just feeling a little under the weather, that’s all,” Yuuri said and pulled the alpha into a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re here. Viktor is out today, but he said he wants to have dinner with you tonight.”

“Urgh, fine,” Yuri said and rolled his eyes. “You’ll be there too, I guess. Can Beka come too?”

“Yuri, I don’t think it’s appropriate if I join you,” Otabek said and cleared his throat.

“Nonsense,” Yuuri said. “I’m sure that Viktor won’t mind. I’d be very happy if you joined us, Otabek.”

Otabek inclined his head at that, and then excused himself as his phone rang.

Yuri dropped his bag by the door and went to flop down on the sofa with a groan.

“How was school?” Yuuri asked and joined him, turning down the volume of the TV.

“Eh.” Yuri shrugged. “I’m glad the term is over.”

“Did you get good grades?”

“Fuck good grades,” Yuri muttered. “But I did well in science, I guess. Making shit explode.”

“Sounds interesting,” Yuuri said. “I’ve always wondered what school must be like.”

Yuri stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never went to a school,” Yuuri explained and let Makkachin curl up on the sofa, right between them. “I was taught at home. And only things that my uncle deemed important. I’ve never had chemistry and things like that.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Yuri said, looking at Yuuri in disbelief. “That’s so not okay.”

Yuuri shrugged. “It’s what I grew up with. I got a Russian tutor when I became engaged, and I still have one now. I’ve wondered if I should ask Viktor to look for someone to give me a more… general education, but I haven’t had the time since.”

To Yuuri’s surprise, his brother-in-law seemed actually furious at the fact that he had not received proper schooling due to his omega status. “You better. You’re too fucking smart to not get a degree. You should go to uni.”

Yuuri smiled softly. “Only if you go.”

“We’ll see,” Yuri shrugged and kicked off his boots. “What new games you got?”

They spent the rest of the afternoon gaming in the living room, with Otabek joining them a while later. He did not participate, but sat in the armchair near Yuri and watched, whilst keeping an eye on all doors and windows, as usual. Yuuri had always been amazed at the man’s skill, but it actually made him feel safe.

It was shortly after six in the evening when they heard Viktor’s voice coming from the hallway, and quick footsteps approaching the door. A moment later, the door flew open and Viktor walked in, still in the suit that Yuuri had picked for him that morning.

“My love,” he sighed in the greatest relief, closing the distance between himself and Yuuri and kissing him so lovingly on the lips as if they had not seen each other in weeks. “Oh, how much I’ve longed for you today.”

He was ignoring his brother’s and Otabek’s presence entirely, only having eyes for Yuuri, who blushed at such an open display of affection in front of others. “Vitya,” he whispered and kissed back, but before he could say something Viktor had grasped his hands.

“I have brought you something,” he said and reached into his jacket, pulling out a small, velvet box. “I saw it today in a shop window, and I simply had to buy it for you.”

Yuuri smiled and took the box, opening it immediately, as Viktor would always request that he open presents on the spot. Inside the box was the most gorgeous emerald pendant in the shape of a raindrop, similar to a diamond necklace that Yuuri owned.

“How beautiful,” Yuuri breathed and looked up at Viktor with a happy smile. “But Vitya. You do not always have to bring me expensive gifts.”

“I know you do not care for jewels, my sweet,” Viktor said, bringing Yuuri’s hands to his lips. “But I like to see my jewel ornamented with jewels. And besides, it was not so expensive. I paid for it with the money that your Omega Care fund obtained. Technically, it’s your money.”

“Technically, it isn’t, because my riches are legally yours,” Yuuri gave back. “But it is so beautiful. Thank you.”

“I’d like to see you wear it, and nothing else,” Viktor hummed and leant in for another kiss, but an annoyed shout interrupted him. Yuri had decided that enough was enough, and that he did not want to hear about his brother’s dirty fantasies.

Viktor turned around. “Yura!” He grinned and let go of his mate, instead approaching the teenager and ruffling his hair. “How was school? Did you get good grades?”

“Don’t fucking touch me, old man!” Yuri hissed.

Viktor only laughed. “Are you having dinner with us, Yura? I’ve had the cook make your favourite—” He paused, frowning as Yuri brought his hair into ‘order’ again. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Yura snapped. “Stop fucking touching my hair you—”

But Viktor had already pushed Yuri’s hair to the side, revealing what the teenager had hidden.

“Is that an earring?” Viktor asked and grabbed his brother by the arm. “Are those piercings?”

“Let fucking go of me!” Yuri barked and pushed Viktor away.

“Where did you get that done?” Viktor demanded to know and crossed his arms. “I did not allow this.”

“This is none of your fucking business!”

“As a matter of fact, it is! I pay for your school and everything else, and I am responsible for your—”

“Vitya,” Yuuri said softly and stepped forward, touching his husband’s arm soothingly. “I think it looks cool. I’m sure Yuri went to a proper shop and had it done there, and paid for it with his pocket money. Isn’t it so?”

He gave Yuri a warning look.

The teenager huffed. “Got it done in a shop in St. Petersburg. They thought I was 18.”

Viktor sighed. “Well… it’s done, isn’t it. You should have asked me regardless.”

“Why, would you have paid for it?”

“Probably not.”

“Then why the fuck should I have asked you?”

“I think I heard the bell,” Yuuri lied before the situation could escalate again. “I’m terribly hungry. Did you have lunch at all, Viktor? Also, I thought since Yuri is here, Otabek should join us, what do you think?”

He led Viktor out of the door and to the dining room without waiting for him to respond, and fortunately, Viktor dropped the subject of Yuri’s piercings.

The cook had prepared Yuri’s favourite dishes, and as the teenager dug in and chatted with Otabek, it gave Yuuri some time to speak to Viktor in relative privacy.

“I hope your business today was successful. Did you manage to speak to that man you mentioned this morning?”

“Oh, yes,” Viktor replied and pushed the salad around on his plate. “Fortunately, he was very compliant. I think the shipments will no longer cause any problems.”

“I’m glad,” Yuuri said and took his glass of water. “Say, Viktor… do you know Sara Crispino?”

Viktor nodded, taking a forkful of the salad. “I do,” he said before pushing the fork into his mouth and chewing. “I was at her and Mila’s wedding. Why are you asking?” He said after he had swallowed.

Yuuri exchanged a glance with Otabek. “Her assistant sent a message to Otabek. Sara Crispino wants to talk to me via video call and I don’t know why. I wondered if you had any idea…”

Viktor put the cutlery down and crossed his legs. “Sara Crispino is the smarter of the Crispino siblings. But in the background. The Bratva and the Crispino family have been allies ever since, although I find her brother incredibly annoying. Perhaps she is trying to get to know you. Without my influence. Otherwise she would have probably asked me, and not Otabek, to speak to you.”

“Do you think she might have something in mind that you are not supposed to know?” Yuuri asked nervously. “I don’t know what to think of all this, Viktor.”

Viktor rubbed his chin. “She surely expects that you are telling me about the inquiry, so she is not trying to hide something. If she were, she’d use a more discreet way. I think it is up to you whether you want to speak to her and hear what she has to say or not.”

Yuuri nodded, looking down at his food.

Viktor touched his hand. “I’m not telling you what to do, my jewel,” he said softly and brought Yuuri’s hand to his lips. “If you want to hear what she has to say, give it a try. If not, let her know that you are not interested, and she will respect that.”

Yuuri nodded and gave his husband a smile. “I’m glad you are not angry.”

“Why on earth would I be angry?” Viktor asked. “I’m grateful for every email that is not in my mailbox.”

After that, the conversation moved away from serious things and Viktor actually managed to have a sensible talk with his brother. As it turned out, his grades had been emailed to Viktor directly, and whilst there was room for improvement (“How can you be bad at Russian, it’s your native language!” – “Shut the fuck up you relic.”) it seemed that Viktor was overall pleased.

“I’ve bought him that thing he wanted,” he told Yuuri when the teenager had left to take a shower and go to bed. “That gaming console.”

“You’re sweet,” Yuuri said and they stood to let the maids clear the table. “Let us go to bed.”

He linked his arm with Viktor’s on the way, listening to him as he kept telling him about his day in the city. In the bedroom, they changed into their sleepwear – in Viktor’s case, that meant to strip entirely – and as Yuuri climbed into bed and lay down, he groaned in relief. His back had hurt the whole day due to the bleeding, and lying down helped immensely. Viktor slipped under the covers beside him and put an arm around him, nuzzling his neck.

“I’ve fantasised about you all day, my jewel,” he mumbled against Yuuri’s skin, and the omega shivered.

“Viktor, we can’t,” he murmured. “I’m not able to please you for a few days.”

“Who said anything about pleasing _me_?” Viktor replied softly and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s skin before lifting his head. They were close, so incredibly close, their noses almost touching, and Yuuri could see the warmth in his husband’s eyes. “There are so many other beautiful things we can do.”

“W-what are you suggesting?” Yuuri almost did not dare to ask, for it could surely be nothing but something incredibly scandalous.

Viktor let his hand gently caress Yuuri’s belly, the gesture always incredibly soothing. “When I saw you in pain this morning, I could not stop wondering if there was something that I could do for you,” he said. “So I went to speak to a specialist today, after the job was done. And they told me that omega do benefit greatly from pleasure even when they’re bleeding. That it eases the pain and helps with sleeping.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, the mere thought of Viktor pleasuring him _now_ sending shivers down his spine. “Viktor, we c-can’t…”

“Why not?” Viktor asked softly. “I may not be able to enter you, but I can give you pleasure in other ways.” His hand went deeper, resting on Yuuri’s thigh, caressing his skin. “With my hand, for example.”

Yuuri couldn’t believe it. “Viktor, I…” He began, suddenly feeling nervous, as if it were their wedding night all over again. To have Viktor’s hand between his thighs, to have him give him pleasure…

“We don’t have to do that,” Viktor reminded him, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze. “But I know how hard it is for you to fall asleep when you’re bleeding. If I can help you relax, then I will happily do so if you let me.”

“But… but what’s in it for you?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor blinked. “What do you mean?”

Yuuri only looked at him, the penny finally dropping as he realised that Viktor had no other intention.

“All I want is to make you happy, Yuuri,” Viktor said before the omega could say anything else, and he gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. Yuuri closed his eyes, finally giving in, and Viktor’s hand disappeared between his legs.

Yuuri had never been aware of how sensitive he was during this time, but as Viktor touched him, he could not help but gasp. His fingers were gentle, careful, caressing him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Within seconds, Yuuri felt himself relax, and he put his arms around Viktor’s neck, holding him close.

“Very good, my jewel,” Viktor whispered as he moved his fingers in small circles. “Does that feel nice?”

Yuuri gave a tiny nod, exhaling audibly. He had had no idea it could feel like this, especially not during this time, when he was supposed to stay away from Viktor until he stopped bleeding. But he was so sensitive that every touch sent the most pleasant shivers down his spine, and Yuuri wanted more, so much more. He gasped as Viktor’s finger came dangerously close to his entrance, pushing in barely, but that was already enough to make him whine. This was what he wanted, and what he could not have. Viktor noticed his reaction and gave him a soothing kiss.

“Soon,” he whispered before he continued to pleasure him. There was always one finger right at Yuuri’s entrance, teasing playfully whilst Viktor caressed his most sensitive places. It did not take long until Yuuri gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as the pleasure spread through his body, as all the tension his hips had held vanished at once.

Viktor kissed him.

“Sleep well, my jewel,” he whispered as he pulled the duvet up to Yuuri’s chin and held him close.

Yuuri was asleep within moments.

* * *

The last time Yuuri had been so nervous, he had been summoned to his uncle’s study to meet a certain Mr Giacometti.

Now he sat in front of his computer, waiting for the incoming call of Sara Crispino. In the end, he had given in to the curiosity and had agreed to speak to her. Otabek and her secretary had determined a date and time, and all Yuuri had to do was to pick up when she called.

Viktor would not be around to disturb them – not that he would have done so. An urgent call had forced him to fly to Almaty, and he had been gone for two days already. He called Yuuri whenever he had the time, but most of the time, he was busy. It helped that Yuri was now with them, and Yuuri was not completely alone in the house without anyone to talk to, but Yuuri missed his husband nonetheless.

As the familiar sound of Skype finally came out of the speakers, Yuuri took a deep breath before accepting the call.

For a moment, the camera was dark. But then, the connection became more stable, and the pretty face of a dark-haired woman appeared on the screen. She looked just like in the picture Mila had shown him.

“Hello!” Sara Crispino said cheerfully and gave a small wave. “It’s so nice to meet you, your wellborn!”

“Hello,” Yuuri said softly. “How do you do.”

“I’m glad you accepted my request,” Sara said. “My Mila told me that you were a bit hesitant, but that is only understandable. I would be hesitant as well.”

Yuuri shifted nervously on his seat. “I think you should know that I told my husband that I’m talking to you,” he said. “He’s not here, but I informed him.”

“Oh, I expected that,” Sara said, unsurprisingly. “But this call is not about Viktor or anything related to the current business.”

Yuuri frowned. “Then why did you want to speak to me? If it is not about my husband?”

“To be honest, Yuuri—I may call you Yuuri, yes?” Sara interrupted herself and looked at Yuuri expectantly. Yuuri gave a small nod. “To be honest, Yuuri, I wanted to speak to someone who is like me. Someone who is pulling the strings in the background.”

“I’m not pulling the strings in the background,” Yuuri said with a frown.

Sara laughed, but it was not condescending.

“If I can trust my wife – and I do trust her – then you are the one with the greatest influence on Viktor right now. And you do not even have to hold back, because Viktor knows of your influence on him. He allows it. Just like my brother allows me to have the last word.”

“You don’t…” Yuuri shook his head. “You misunderstand. I don’t pull any strings. I don’t have any influence on Viktor in terms of business.”

“I doubt that,” Sara replied softly and clasped her hands, her eyes studying Yuuri sympathetically through the camera. “Look. I have tried to become friends with many people in our world. I have tried to befriend Mrs Chulanont, Mrs de la Iglesia, several members of the Ji family, and the Lees wouldn’t even answer the phone or look at me simply because I’m not an alpha woman. I’m a beta. The only person that didn’t look at me as some inferior being was Mila. And your sister, of course.”

At that, Yuuri frowned and sat up properly. “You have spoken to Mari?”

Sara nodded and reached behind herself, only to present a typical Japanese wooden doll, one of the kind that Yuuri had seen before many, many times. It was one of those that his late father’s private business manufactured. The business that now belonged to Mari.

“We met several weeks ago, in early March,” Sara said and carefully set the wooden doll down. “My brother and your uncle had some things to discuss. Mickey asked me to come with him, and so I did. Mari and I were not really part of the negotiations, and I ran into her when she was outside and smoking. We started talking and she was actually really nice.”

“The fact that she sent you one of the dolls means a lot,” Yuuri said, looking at the piece of art through the camera. Dolls like these had ornamented his mother’s rooms, and as a child, he had liked to play with them. “Mari does not care about people’s secondary gender. She never has.”

Sara nodded. “I told her that I was glad that she thought so. And then she told me: ‘You would like my brother, then. He cares even less.’ I had not even known that she had a brother. She told me that you had recently gotten married to the Pakhan, and only then I connected the dots. So I asked Mila, and she said it was true. That’s why I contacted you. I believe that we should have a network of our own – those of us that exist in the background. We might need each other, as supporters, and as friends. I guess you know how rare actual friends are for people like us.”

Yuuri knew that only too well. He had not had any proper friends as a child, having been excluded soon enough because he was an omega, and the few peers he’d had had never really treated him as an equal.

Even now, in his new life, he only had one true friend. And that was Viktor.

Viktor, who was his husband, his alpha, the man he loved the most, and therefore would never be the same as a friend.

“I know,” Yuuri murmured and clasped his hands on his lap, looking Sara in the eye. “But I must also think carefully. The Bratva and the Crispino branch have been friends for many, many years. You would not gain anything additional from our friendship, as I see it. But I want you to know that I’m no fool.” He sat up a little straighter. “I might be only an omega and God knows what people say about me, but I’m not one to mess with, okay? If you have ulterior motives, then just say it. Speak freely. There’s no need to charm me in any way or offer me friendship if in the end you only want something for yourself.”

Sara blinked, and for a moment, Yuuri was sure he had insulted her so greatly that she would end the call, or that he perhaps had seen right through her. Yes, that perhaps she had indeed ulterior motives, and had only used the story with Mari as a tool to have him become more friendly towards her.

But Sara began to smile. “I like how you think, Yuuri. You think just like me.”

“Then you know that I am serious,” Yuuri replied.

“I do,” Sara said. “And that is why I am honest with you and tell you that my ulterior motive is to keep the peace between our families, in both personal and professional terms. If we are friends, I will have your back, and you will have mine. I’d like to be your friend, Yuuri. If you let me.”

Yuuri found it odd that someone would ever think of proposing friendship to another person in such a way. Friendship was something that developed naturally, something that could not just be decided. But he had to admit that Sara had left a good impression on him, and if she had Mari’s approval – and checking if Sara’s story was true would be easy – then perhaps it was a good idea to trust her.

After all, she was Mila’s wife.

And in some way, Sara was in the same situation as he was. Living in the shadow of a man, preferably only to be seen, never to be heard.

“We shall be friends then,” Yuuri said. “I hope next time my husband and your brother have business to discuss, we shall meet in person.”

“I hope so, too,” Sara smiled. “I’ll come to visit Mila in a few weeks. Maybe we can meet then, too.”

“I’d be delighted,” Yuuri said with a small nod, just as he heard a loud, annoyed shout coming from next door.

Yuri.

“I fear I have to go,” Yuuri said. “But it was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise,” Sara replied with a smile. “Also, as a sign of my friendship, let me tell you a secret.”

Yuuri frowned. “A secret?”

Sara nodded. “When my brother tells a lie, he clears his throat before he speaks. Thought your godlike husband would want to know that.”

Yuuri blushed.

“What?” Sara laughed. “I may be married, but Viktor is a snack.”

At that, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh. He had never thought of Viktor as a ‘snack’.

“Thank you for calling,” he said.

“I’ll see you soon!” Sara said, and ended the call.

If Viktor had been around, Yuuri would have asked him for advice.

Instead, he called Mari when it was around noon in Japan, and she confirmed the story, and shared her opinion about Sara Crispino with her brother. She seemed to like her, and that was rare enough, as Mari didn’t like most people.

Yuuri closed the laptop and looked at Otabek, who had stood by the door and listened to the entire conversation.

“What do you think of this?” Yuuri asked him.

Otabek hesitated. “I think it is good to have friends in important positions,” he said eventually. “Even if their position is not important at first sight.”

“I see,” Yuuri murmured, thinking about his words. “Thank you.”

“And if I may say so,” Otabek added, and Yuuri looked up. It was rare that Otabek was that chatty. “She is right. About your influence. You may not be aware of it, but the Bratva is. And all the other families around the globe know it, too. Sara Crispino may be valuable protection against those who have ill intentions towards you or the Pakhan.”

And then, Otabek’s phone rang, and he excused himself.

Yuuri stayed behind.

It seemed that in their world, no friend could ever be chosen regardless of their potential use.

And that alone made Yuuri incredibly sad.

* * *

Viktor returned home after almost a week, the rings under his eyes proof for the lack of sleep he had suffered, but he was happy to be home again. The moment he stepped into the manor he called for Yuuri, only to be told by a servant that his mate was outside in the garden with Makkachin.

Chris was also there, being the first to spot Viktor as he stepped out of the building. He greeted him with a nod, watching as Viktor called Yuuri’s name. The omega turned around where he stood with Makkachin’s favourite ball in his hand, which he dropped at the sight of his husband and ran towards him.

“Careful!” Viktor laughed as Yuuri threw himself into his arms. “The grass is slippery, my jewel, I don’t want you to fall.”

“I won’t,” Yuuri told him and kissed him. “How was Almaty? You look terrible.”

“I know, I know,” Viktor sighed. But as he looked at Yuuri, he noticed that his mate was not looking his best either. “Yuuri, what’s wrong?”

Yuuri blushed, as if he had been caught doing something forbidden.

“I missed you, that’s all,” he said softly, busying himself with smoothing out Viktor’s shirt. “You’ve been away many times the last few weeks.”

“I know,” Viktor sighed and cupped his cheeks, kissing his forehead. “And I hate it so. I would rather stay with you. You know that.”

“I do,” Yuuri said. “But I can still miss you.”

“Did you spend time with Yura?” Viktor asked, as he had hoped that his brother would be good company for his mate.

“He went to stay with his grandfather,” Yuuri said.

Just then, Makkachin came and jumped at Viktor, who barely managed to reach out for her and give her the pets she deserved. So once more, Yuuri had spent his days alone, he realised.

That was not good.

“I think she wants her ball,” Yuuri said. “Tell me everything about Almaty, yes?”

He turned around to get the ball, and Makkachin followed.

Viktor had never felt more like a failure of a husband than he did now.

He could not continue like this, leave Yuuri alone for days. Other alphas would not think twice about it, he knew that, but Yuuri meant too much.

Yuuri had his heart.

“Say, Chris,” Viktor said, his gaze still fixed on Yuuri’s back as his mate walked away with Makkachin at his side. Makkachin happily wagged her tail as Yuuri scratched her behind the ear, and barked as Yuuri knelt down to hug her, as if she were his only friend in the world.

“What is it?” Chris asked, moving to stand beside the Pakhan.

“Did the Chulanont family not have a beta son?” Viktor asked, never taking his eyes off Yuuri. “He must be Yuuri’s age, if I remember correctly.”

Chris immediately pulled out his iPad to check. “Yes, Phichit Chulanont. He’s currently going to university to train in Omega Care. Huh. That’s interesting…”

Viktor thought back to a conversation he had had with Chulanont a while ago – about business, yes, but also about their families, as part of the usual polite conversation between leaders. Eventually, Chulanont’s wife had joined the conversation, and had proudly told him about the beta son they had that was ready to go to university and eager to train in Omega Care to help others. Chulanont’s face had soured at that.

Viktor had kept that in mind ever since.

“Keep an eye on Phichit Chulanont, then,” he said. “We might need him.”

“Got it,” Chris said. “But what for?”

But Viktor had already begun to walk away from him to join his mate and their dog, kneeling down beside Makkachin on the grass. Yuuri smiled at him, and Viktor put his arm around him to kiss him, and for a moment, the world was at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this completes the Pre-Phichit arc.  
> From now on, all chapters (unless indicated otherwise) will be set in the PRESENT. That means, Phichit times. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and stay safe out there, and don't forget: JK Rowling sucks and black lives matter.


	20. Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pakhan's back, ALRIGHT!
> 
> To tell you the truth, it is incredibly difficult for me to write this story. I have come so far with it, and I dare to say we are in its final third, but the closer I get there, the more difficult it is to write what I see in my head. But I'll keep trying. For now: the Pakhan and his Jewel are on a little getaway...
> 
> A big thank you goes out to the husband of Em, who was so kind to help with the Japanese bits.

There were many things that Yuuri loved to see Viktor do.

Of course, there was the way Viktor sat up and stretched in the morning, and because Viktor always slept naked, he presented himself to his mate in all his glory. And oh, what a beautiful sight Viktor’s bare chest and back were on a rainy morning.

Then, there was the pleasure of watching him shower. Yuuri, who preferred baths over showers, would often sit in the bathtub and watch his husband through the glass doors. The sight of his beloved, all wet and skin reddened by the hot water, never failed to entice him, and many times, such occasions would end with them all over each other – and Viktor would have to take another shower.

Another sight that Yuuri greatly enjoyed was Viktor demonstrating his authority and power. In these moments, Yuuri was nothing but an ornament hanging on Viktor’s arm, smiling and keeping his mouth shut as Viktor proved again and again that it was him who was in charge, and always would be. He enjoyed seeing Viktor’s subjects quiver before him, loved Viktor seeing powerful and mighty, only to feel his tender caress on his cheek again in a quiet moment.

His most favourite sight of them all, however, was the rare view of his husband standing in a kitchen, humming to himself, preparing a meal.

It was what Yuuri could see from where he rested in bed, his head on the pillow and face towards the open door that offered the perfect view of Viktor’s backside where he stood in the kitchen, pyjama pants hanging low on his hips. The little radio was on, playing terribly cheesy Italian music, and Viktor sang to it quietly. He was not a bad singer, but Yuuri would not call him particularly talented. But Viktor enjoyed it, and a singing Viktor meant a calm, a happy Viktor, and more did Yuuri not want from life. Just then, he felt the movements of their baby, right under his heart, and he realised that he wanted this from life, too.

Yuuri smiled and cupped his belly, right where he had felt the baby’s kick, rubbing the spot soothingly. Sometimes, he still could not believe that this was real, that this was actually happening – that they had been blessed with this miracle. And everything was going so well. The baby had had a strong, firm heartbeat from the very beginning, it was moving, and every time Yuuri would go for an ultrasound scan, his eyes would fill with tears at the sight of their baby.

Viktor would cry, too, every time he looked at the little picture of the ultrasound scan that he carried with him wherever he went.

Yuuri watched as Viktor threw something into a pan and added various spices to whatever it was that he was cooking, but it would surely be something delicious. Viktor was, after all, an excellent cook, and would use every opportunity to spoil Yuuri rotten with homemade meals. Sadly, he did not have much time to do so as the Pakhan, and whilst their cook at home was great, all of Yuuri’s favourite meals (except for his mother’s Katsudon) came from Viktor.

As the baby decided to jump up and down on Yuuri’s bladder, he was forced to get up, but did so quietly in order not to disturb Viktor in his little culinary bubble. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands when he was done, returning to bed as quietly as he could, slipping back under the covers to keep watching Viktor.

Just then, Viktor turned around to go to the fridge, and their eyes met.

“Good morning,” Yuuri said softly and hugged the pillow like a lovesick teenager watching their crush from afar. Viktor immediately walked into the room, leaning down to kiss him.

“Good morning,” he hummed and ran a hand through Yuuri’s hair, the gesture the most tender of them all and worth a thousand kisses. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Yuuri replied. “I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

Viktor chuckled. “And? Like what you see?”

Yuuri grinned. “You look lovely from behind. Like a model.”

“I shall hope so!” Viktor laughed. “You know I only use our gym because of you. You and all your dancing that keeps you fit and in shape. I’m an old man. I have to work harder.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are SO old. I better remind the doctor to get you a hip replacement after what you did to me last night.”

“Yuuuuri!”

But Yuuri kissed his husband’s pout away. “Go back to cooking before you burn the place down,” he said and gently pushed Viktor back towards the kitchen where indeed, the pan demanded immediate attention. Viktor chuckled to himself and went back to work, swaying his hips sensually just for Yuuri, who squeaked in excitement and buried his face in the pillow.

Viktor laughed, the sound of it so free and careless as it could possibly be.

It was just like their honeymoon again.

But this time, they were three people.

As Viktor turned off the stove, Yuuri sat up, wrapping the duvet around his legs as Viktor came back to the bedroom with a tray, on it his latest masterpiece that had Yuuri stare first at the tray, then at his husband, with wide eyes.

Viktor bit his lip. “I hope I did everything right,” he said. “I know it probably won’t taste like your mother’s, but I did my best.”

Yuuri couldn’t stop staring at the tray before him, at the breakfast that his mother had always made for him – from the tea over the miso soup and _omuraisu_ and all the other things that he had loved to eat as a child, and still loved now.

“Viktor…” Yuuri swallowed thickly. “You… how did you…?”

Viktor sheepishly clasped his hands on his lap. “I called your mother and asked her for all her recipes,” he said. “She sent me two big folders of them. Copies of her handwritten recipes, including a few notes.”

“You…” Yuuri couldn’t believe it. “But her recipes, they are all written in Japanese.”

Viktor blushed and took a deep breath, shifting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. “Kekkon shite kara, Yuuri ni Nihongo wo benkyou shite kimashita.”

Yuuri stared at him with wide eyes, as if his mind were refusing to understand what was happening.

“You… you learnt Japanese?” He whispered in awe. “For me?”

Viktor nodded. “I wanted to be able to speak to you,” he said in accentuated Japanese. “In your language. You sacrificed so much for me, learnt Russian in record speed, and you speak it every single day. All for me. I wanted to give something back.”

Perhaps it was because of the baby hormones flooding his brain, perhaps it was really because of Viktor’s incredible gesture, but Yuuri began to cry then and there, throwing his arms around Viktor and sobbing into his shoulder, almost throwing the tray off the bed.

“You’ve learnt Japanese since we’ve got married?” He breathed, pulling away just enough to look Viktor in the eye. “How—I mean—I never noticed—”

“I learnt it in the car, in my study, whenever I had the time,” Viktor explained, still in Japanese, and the language had never sounded so beautiful to Yuuri. “I wanted to become good enough to talk to you like this. I’m sure I sound terrible. Mari said so.”

“Mari knew?!”

Viktor nodded. “She accused me of wanting to spy on you, but I promise you, that was never my intention.”

“Of course not!” Yuuri sniffed and kissed him on the lips, again and again. “Oh my God. Viktor, I… I don’t know what to say…”

Viktor chuckled, cupping his cheek. “How about we have breakfast now, hm? Before it gets cold. And that _omuraisu_ was a pain in the butt to make, believe me.”

Yuuri laughed and shifted on the bed to make space for Viktor beside him – which was easier said than done with the baby bump in the way. “You have to make it for our little one when they are old enough. My mother always made it for me when I was in bed with a cold.”

“That’s what she told me,” Viktor said and settled beside his mate on the mattress. “I often talked to her on the phone when I practised it.”

“In English or in Japanese?”

“Both,” Viktor said and then paused, before adding: “It took a long time before I was able to understand at least some of what she was saying to me.”

Yuuri frowned softly, reaching up to run a hand through his husband’s hair. “Learning languages has never been your strength,” he said, remembering what Viktor had told him about his school days – how he had struggled with English first, and also with French, and then with German. “It must have been so difficult for you.”

Viktor sighed and gave him an exhausted look. “It was hell,” he admitted. “But whenever the kanji drove me crazy I looked at the photograph of you that I keep on my desk. You know which one?”

Yuuri nodded. “The one that you took of me on our honeymoon? On the beach in Brazil?”

“That’s the one. I always looked at it when I was about to give up. I wanted to give something back to you because you have made me so incredibly happy, every single day since the day of our wedding.” Viktor reached for Yuuri’s hand, intertwining their fingers before bringing Yuuri’s hand to his lips. “I love you so, so much, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri sniffed. “You have to stop saying such things, or I will start crying again.”

“As long as they are tears of happiness,” Viktor said with a smile and kissed him on the forehead. “Now let us eat. I wonder if it is good.”

Just like everything else that Viktor had cooked for Yuuri, this very special breakfast was incredibly delicious and very much like it had been in Yuuri’s childhood. But even if it had been terrible, Yuuri would have appreciated the gesture, and would have still eaten it all, simply because Viktor had cooked it for him.

“What are our plans for today?” Yuuri asked when they were both full and had moved the tray out of the way, Viktor now resting beside him, his hand caressing Yuuri’s belly.

“Hmm, I was thinking about going for a nice walk,” he said. “Maybe do a gondola ride. And tonight, we’ll meet with dear Sara and Mila for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Sounds lovely,” Yuuri said and kissed him. “But won’t it be so terribly warm today?”

“I shall carry a parasol for you wherever we go, and we will take breaks whenever you need them,” Viktor promised. “We will have lunch in a lovely little café and enjoy the most delicious refreshments. And after dinner with Sara and Mila, I will take you to bed and sing you to sleep.”

“You’re so awfully romantic,” Yuuri said and reached up to brush a strand of hair out of his beloved’s face. It was unfair, he thought, how perfect Viktor looked in absolutely every situation. Even now, with messy hair, an unwashed face, and the slight stubble on his chin and cheeks. “You’re always like that when we are on a little getaway. I like that.”

“I wish we could do trips like this more often,” Viktor admitted. “Do you think it would be wise to take the little one to the beach once they are maybe six months old?”

“Which beach?”

“The one in Brazil?”

“You want to take a baby onto an airplane?” Yuuri asked. “What if our little one becomes scared?”

“Right…” Viktor let out a small sigh and rolled onto his back again. For a while, they both just stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of the kitchen radio mixed with the sounds coming through the open window. They were so far away from home now, so far away from the life that they actually lived, with very little to remind them of what their life actually was. Here, they could almost pretend to be an ordinary couple expecting their first child.

It seemed incredibly hard to leave the bed a while later, but if they wanted to enjoy their holiday, they had to get out of the house. Viktor assured Yuuri he would take care of the dishes and sent him to the bathroom to get ready. Yuuri quickly took a shower and then went to pick out something to wear, realising that all the things in his suitcase were brand-new, all of them gifts from his husband.

 _Oh, Viktor…_ Yuuri thought with a small smile on his lips as he pulled out a pair of long linen trousers and a matching blouse. It was just what he had been looking at in a magazine that Phichit had – probably on purpose – left on the coffee table, but Yuuri had not been sure if he should buy it.

Now Viktor had made that decision for him.

“Oh my,” he heard his husband say as he was dressed and about to put on his sandals. Viktor stood in the doorframe, hair wet from his quick shower, trousers hanging low on his hips. Shirtless like this, he reminded Yuuri of a Greek god, were it not for the lovesick look on his face that made him look like a teenager.

Viktor closed the distance between them and cupped Yuuri’s cheeks, kissing him tenderly.

“How beautiful you look,” he said softly and let his gaze wander over his mate’s new clothes. “I knew it would suit you.”

“I see you saw the magazine,” Yuuri said, returning the kiss before stepping back and turning around for Viktor to see all sides of him. “I must say that I like it very much. Phichit has good taste.”

“Indeed,” Viktor agreed. “We should give him a raise.”

“And we should pay for his and Chris’ wedding,” Yuuri added, reaching into the wardrobe to pick a shirt for Viktor to wear. “I’m sure they will get married one day.”

“Let us hope your predictions will come true,” Viktor said and put on the shirt Yuuri handed him.

It was not too warm yet as they left their little apartment in the heart of Venice. Viktor held Yuuri’s hand, guiding him along the narrow canals and across the bridges, making sure he would not trip on the uneven ground and fall. Whenever Viktor pulled him closer to support him, Yuuri smiled at him and leant in for a kiss, which Viktor always granted him happily. Their first destination would be an art gallery where it would be cool and quiet. Viktor had sworn to Yuuri that he had not booked the gallery for themselves, as Yuuri knew that Viktor tended to do things like that. No, this time, they were just like everyone else; a couple in love, enjoying a little holiday before becoming a family of three.

As they strolled across one of the many piazzas of Venice, Viktor asked Yuuri if he liked it here, but Yuuri was too overwhelmed to say anything. His whole life had been spent behind walls and doors in Japan, and only when getting married had he left the country for the first time. He had been overwhelmed by the beauty of Russia, especially by its architecture, and Venice was no exception. The palaces and churches were beyond any comparison, and Yuuri, despite having been to Venice before with Viktor during their honeymoon, could not stop looking. Venice, he was sure, was a piece of art, and the thought that the sea would one day swallow it made him incredibly sad.

His sadness was wiped away the moment they stepped into the magnificent art gallery. A smiling woman handed them leaflets with information about the current exhibition and gave them advice on where to start, almost fainting as Viktor gave him his famous camera-ready smile.

“The poor woman,” Yuuri sighed as they turned around the corner into the first room. “She probably has to lie down for a moment.”

“I am entirely innocent,” Viktor chuckled and pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s temple as he wrapped an arm around his waist. “Now, let us see if this exhibition is any good. I am not an expert when it comes to paintings.”

“Nonsense,” Yuuri hummed and looked around in the room, taking in the displayed paintings. “You have chosen excellent paintings for our home.”

Viktor chuckled. “Chris helped me there, I have to admit,” he said as they approached the first painting. “He is the art expert. Did you not know he even studied art history?”

“No,” Yuuri admitted and let his eyes wander further, across the paintings and the people, of which he knew at least two were their bodyguards in disguise. For even on vacation, they must be protected, or rather, Yuuri had to be protected. Viktor always insisted on it, and Yuuri would not argue with him about it. Nonetheless, he could not help but wishing for simpler days, for a simpler life, without having to worry about such things. The other people in the room were entirely unaware of all of this, and Yuuri envied them for it, but only in secret. Viktor knew, of course, how he was feeling about this life, and he shared his sentiment.

But this was their place in life, and they had to accept it with dignity and their heads held high.

“I wonder if these are for sale,” Viktor said as they came to stand before something that was very much modern art, and Yuuri grimaced.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Why not?”

“It is a ghastly thing. Where would we possibly put it?”

“I was thinking about the dining room.”

“No.” Yuuri shook his head. “Certainly not. I don’t like it. Why not a painting that actually shows something?”

Viktor chuckled. “If Chris could hear you, he would let out a very heavy sigh, I believe, and then he would—” But Viktor trailed off, his head turning as someone walked past them into the next exhibition room. Yuuri turned around, following his husband’s gaze.

“Is something the matter?” He asked him softly. “Is it someone you know?”

“I am not sure,” Viktor said quietly, pulling Yuuri a little closer by the hip. “It might have been a man of the Chulanonts. But I am surely mistaken.”

Yuuri froze on the spot, eyes fixed on the back of the man that just then turned around the corner with his female companion.

“Yuuri?”

There was a gentle squeeze of a hand on his hip, and Viktor reached up to touch his face, trying to get his attention. “My love? Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes,” Yuuri murmured, shaking his head. “Sorry, I just felt a little dizzy all of a sudden.”

Viktor’s eyes widened. “Do you need to sit down?” He asked worriedly and immediately began to pull Yuuri towards one of the benches in the room. Yuuri knew better than to protest and let his husband do what he wanted, sitting down with him for a while whilst anxiously rubbing his belly, not wanting for the baby to feel his uneasiness.

He had to tell Viktor. Sooner or later, his husband would find out that he was keeping something from him, and Viktor was very good at reading him. It was almost impossible to hide something from him, and while there was usually no need to actually do so – a fact about which Yuuri was very happy – it was unfortunate that he had to do so now. After all, this was their little getaway, and Viktor needed this break as much as Yuuri did.

Such news would only make Viktor worry, and the magic of their vacation would be broken.

I shall tell him later, Yuuri decided for himself, and gently nudged Viktor’s arm to tell him that they could continue walking. The exhibition continued into the next few rooms, showing the most beautiful pieces of various styles that Venice had to offer, but Yuuri found it terribly hard to focus. Around every corner, he expected to see the back of the man that could potentially be a Chulanont, perhaps even a spy, but the man was nowhere to be seen again. It did little to ease his anxiety, but Yuuri swallowed his worries – at least for now.

They had a light lunch in a small restaurant at a beautiful piazza before going on a gondola ride, Viktor firmly holding onto him as they climbed into the small boat and took their seats. It was awfully romantic, and any other day, Yuuri would have been able to enjoy it immensely. But his mind was distracted and kept going back to the man at the museum, to Viktor’s suspicion, and to what Mari had said.

He had to know.

He had to know more, or he would go mad.

“It’s getting terribly hot now,” Viktor said, pulling Yuuri out of his thoughts. He gripped his parasol a little tighter, looking up at the sky from where the sun was beaming down onto them mercilessly.

“It is,” Yuuri agreed. “Should we go back and rest?”

“I was just about to suggest that,” Viktor said and leant forward, asking the gondolier to take them to a place near their apartment. Then, he sat back, and his arm came around Yuuri’s waist again, holding him close just the way he always did, had always done from the very beginning. Yuuri leant into the embrace, resting his head against Viktor’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

“Are you tired, my love?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri felt his lips against his hair.

“My head is so full,” Yuuri murmured. “There is so much on my mind.”

“Because of the baby?”

“Hm.”

Viktor’s hand moved up his arm, rubbing it gently. “Everything will go well,” he said quietly. “We will have the most gorgeous, healthy little baby. And you will have the very best doctors, the very best midwives. You don’t have to worry about a single thing.”

Instead of giving a reply, Yuuri only let out a small sigh.

He hated not being able to speak freely to Viktor, hated hiding things from him, but there was very little he could tell him now without making him worry excessively. Nonetheless, he had a feeling that Viktor could sense his uneasiness, that his husband could feel that there was something he was not telling him.

Viktor would never think badly of him. Yuuri was certain of that.

But it made Viktor worry, and his worry would only increase over time, and that meant he had to tell Viktor better sooner than later. There was a certain tension between them on the way back to the apartment, a tension that Yuuri hated so very much, but he could not talk to Viktor about it unless he knew more about his family, about their history with the Chulanonts.

All he knew was that their aunt had been killed by them, but he did not know the reason. Neither his mother nor father had ever told him, and after his father’s death, it had been forbidden to even mention the name of his aunt or the name Chulanont in his uncle’s presence.

None of it had ever been explained.

None of it had ever made sense.

“I’ll be on the balcony,” Viktor said when they were back at the apartment. “Yuuri? Are you going to lie down for a little?”

“No, I… I think I’ll call Mari,” Yuuri said.

Viktor still had his hand on his arm, and as Yuuri looked at him, he could see the anxiety, the genuine worry in his husband’s eyes. Not the worry of a Pakhan, but of an alpha that loved his mate.

“There is nothing in this world that you could not tell me,” Viktor said softly. “I want you to know that.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “I will tell you,” he said quietly, his voice almost breaking, for he hated to not share everything with Viktor, to keep things from him when everything inside him screamed that doing so was wrong, so utterly wrong. “But I have to talk to Mari first.”

Viktor nodded.

And then, he stepped forward and kissed Yuuri’s forehead.

“I’ll be outside,” he said. “Come to me when you’re ready.”

Yuuri gave a small nod, watching as his husband walked through the living room to the balcony, stepped outside, and shut the glass door.

Only then did Yuuri go to the bedroom and sit down, his phone in his hand, the heaviest it had ever been. Never had he been more grateful for having a husband that allowed him his privacy, that did not enforce control over him like many other alphas did. Viktor always treated him well, with dignity, and with outmost respect. As a person in his own right.

For that alone Yuuri was grateful, for it allowed him to speak to Mari in private, and to come to his own conclusions, and his own decisions.

He opened the address bock, scrolled down to Mari’s name, and pressed CALL.

She answered after a few seconds already, her voice sleepy and alarmed at the same time.

“Yuuri? Is everything okay?”

Yuuri glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “Yes, I’m fine,” he said. “I forgot it’s late in Japan already. Do you want me to call tomorrow?”

“Nah.” He heard the rustling of sheets, followed by his sister’s yawn. “I just had an early night. Aren’t you in Venice right now?”

“I am,” Yuuri confirmed, touching his belly absentmindedly.

“Is it nice?”

“It is. We went to an art gallery today. We…” Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mari, there was a man of whom Viktor said he might be a Chulanont.”

Mari was quiet for a long moment.

“Have you told him?”

“Not yet,” Yuuri whispered. “Mari, I am so worried. You know that even if I’m not a Katsuki by name anymore, I will always be seen as part of them. If our uncle is in great distress because of letters sent by Chulanont that means Viktor and I have to be careful, too.”

He looked out of the window that faced the balcony, watching Viktor sit in one of the chairs with a newspaper.

“Our uncle is very restless these days, Yuuri,” Mari said quietly. “He is often on the phone, late at night, and I don’t know with whom. He won’t tell me, and neither will his men. I doubt that they know either. I bet it’s because of Chulanont. I’ve never seen him in such a state before, Yuuri. He looks almost scared.”

Yuuri closed his eyes, shaking his head vehemently. “Is she still up?”

“I can check,” Mari replied, and Yuuri heard the sound of footsteps, following by the opening and closing of a door. “Do you want to talk to her?”

“Yes, please.”

There was an incomprehensible exchange of words between mother and daughter, and Yuuri’s heart ached at the worried exclaim of surprise of his mother.

“Yuuri?” She said the moment she got hold of the phone. “Yuuri, darling, are you alright? You never call so late in the evening. Is it about the baby?”

Yuuri smiled a little at that. Of course she would be thinking about the baby at this point, being excited about becoming a grandmother.

“We’re alright,” he said, moving up on the bed to rest against the headboard. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course, of course. What is it, dear?”

“Mama, what… what happened after our aunt was killed?”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Yuuri hated to make his mother feel like this, to bring back memories she always tried to suppress and forget, for they were so incredibly painful.

“She had a funeral with all honours,” she said eventually. “Your father and your uncle wept for her. And then we continued with our lives, because we had to.”

Yuuri nodded to himself. “But… was there anything else, Mama? Something… something unexpected, a reaction of the Chulanonts, maybe, or…” He did not know how to say it, or what it was that he wanted to say. “I know that my uncle received a letter from Chulanont, Mama. What could this mean? Mama, if you know something…”

“Yuuri,” she said softly, but firm enough to interrupt him. Yuuri held his breath. “It is better, sometimes, to not dig around in the past. But to look forward. There is no bad blood between us and the Chulanonts anymore. You have Phichit in your service. That is the best proof of it. Anything else is best left in the hands of your uncle, and in the hands of your husband.”

“Mama—”

“I understand that you are worried,” his mother said softly. “It is only natural. But you are going to be a mother soon. Your child is your top priority now. Everything else, everything regarding business, is best left in the hands of your husband.”

“I know.”

“Share your worries with him if you have not done so yet. He will keep an eye on everything. But I am sure it is nothing.”

“I will try,” Yuuri murmured. “But I know that you are worried, too.”

Hiroko was quiet for a long moment. They might as well have hung up, for they did not speak for a good three minutes or more, both of them trying to collect their thoughts. Yuuri looked out of the window, watching as Viktor turned the pages of his Italian newspaper. 

He did not speak Italian.

“It is the price we pay in this life, Yuuri,” his mother said then. “We worry. For our mates, and for our children. But our worry must not overpower us. Do not let it overpower you, my dear. Trust in yourself, and in your husband. You share a bond that is so rare. Your father and I had it too. It is the most precious thing you will ever have besides your children. Protect it. Never let it go. Is Viktor with you?”

“He is outside,” Yuuri whispered.

“Go to him then,” Hiroko said. “I am sure he can sense that you are worried. Share the burden with him.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He could hear the smile in his mother’s voice. “I will come and visit you soon, yes? When you’ve had your little one. I am the most excited.”

“So am I,” Yuuri said. “I… I will call you again when we are back from Venice, yes?”

“Enjoy your little getaway with your husband. Once the baby is here you will be grateful for every second you can close your eyes.”

“Probably, yes.”

“Please do send him my best wishes, too. I am very much looking forward to meeting him again.”

“I will. Sleep well, Mama.”

“Have a lovely day, dear.”

Yuuri ended the call, set the phone aside, and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

In the end, it took him another half an hour to collect himself, half an hour that he spent in the bathroom, washing his face first, then deciding to take a shower instead. The water cooled him down, and as the water ran down his face and body, Yuuri managed to rearrange his thoughts, having them somewhat clear again. The phone call with his mother had given him no answers, had done absolutely nothing to ease his anxiety. There was nothing new, really, that he had learnt.

He still did not know anything about the past. Nothing about his aunt, had no explanation as to why his uncle would react so extremely to a letter of Phichit’s father.

Yuuri sighed, turned off the shower, and reached for the towel. Then he stepped out, making his way over to the basin where Viktor had spread out all of his skin care products, next to Yuuri’s own small bag. They were insanely expensive, but Viktor swore that they worked, and although Yuuri found it a little ridiculous, he had never made fun of his husband’s love for these things.

His own bag only contained a cream and a washing gel, which he took out to use as he thought about the phone call again. There clearly was something that his mother was not telling him, and she was not telling Mari either. Of course, Yuuri could not force his mother to tell him, but it would have made things a lot easier. In many things, she was right, of course. Some things were best left in the past.

But others, Yuuri had learnt over and over again, had to be addressed if one had to understand them.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted his train of thoughts, so suddenly that he threw the little jar against the mirror, from where it fell into the sink with a loud clank.

“Yuuri, darling?” Viktor asked through the closed door. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-Yes!” Yuuri breathed and picked up the jar, checking if it was broken.

“What was that?”

“You surprised me, that’s all,” Yuuri called and hissed as he cut his finger on something sharp. “Shit…”

“Yuuri?” Viktor sounded alarmed now. “Yuuri, can you let me in?”

Yuuri stuck his finger into his mouth and reached to unlock the bathroom door, letting his husband in.

“You surprised me and I accidentally threw the jar,” he said before Viktor could open his mouth. “And I cut myself on it just now.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor sighed, knowing very well how clumsy he could be. He took Yuuri’s wrist, taking a look at the small cut on his finger. “Sit down, yes? I’ll get you a plaster.”

Yuuri did as he was told and sat down on the broad edge of the bathtub, watching Viktor search through his toiletry bag for the plasters and disinfectant. Then he came back, kneeling down before him to inspect the cut once more. “Just something small, at least,” he said, carefully spraying some disinfectant on the cut before wrapping the plaster around Yuuri’s finger. And then, he kissed Yuuri’s finger before taking both of Yuuri’s hands into his own.

“And now, I want you to tell me what pains you so.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly, looking away, looking anywhere but at Viktor, but just for a moment.

“Mari told me something when she came to visit,” he said quietly. Viktor said nothing, only nodding to show that he was listening.

It all came out then, all of what worried him so he now told Viktor, who never once interrupted him, whose face never changed as he listened, who was as patient as he could possibly be. Yuuri had no idea for how long he talked, and when he had begun to cry, or why he was crying at all. Perhaps it was just hormones paired with worry about things he did not quite understand, or something entirely different.

“I cannot stop thinking about this,” Yuuri whispered. “I cannot stop thinking about Phichit. I don’t think he has something to do with this, but what if I’m wrong? What if he has fooled all of us? What if we are in great danger, what if Chulanont…” He did not dare to say it out loud.

Viktor squeezed his hands. “Why did you not share your worries with me sooner?” He asked. “I’m not angry,” he added immediately. “Not at all. I just wish I had known, so that I could have shared your burden.”

Yuuri sniffed, reaching up to wipe away the remaining tears. “Mari asked me not to tell anyone.”

“I see.” Viktor slowly rose from the bathroom floor and sat down by Yuuri’s side.

He never let go of his hand.

“Your uncle never mentioned this letter to me, or anything else related to the Chulanonts,” Viktor said. “We only spoke about something related to the Lees from South Korea. I know that there was something between your family and the Chulanonts, but I know as little about it as you do. Perhaps even less. Nonetheless, I had Phichit’s ties to his family checked before employing him. I could not find anything out of the ordinary. Whatever it is that Chulanont is doing with your uncle, I don’t think it has anything to do with us. Or with Phichit.”

Yuuri nodded shakily as relief washed over him, and he leant against Viktor out of the sheer need for his embrace. Viktor’s arms immediately came around him, and he kissed him on the head ever so lovingly.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. “And I promise I will do everything within my power to protect not only you and our child, but your mother and sister, too. Chulanont will never harm your family again. Not as long as I live.”

Yuuri nodded, closing his eyes.

They sat in complete silence for a while, the touch of his husband calming Yuuri immensely. And even their child seemed to relish it, for it kicked right where Viktor’s palm was resting, as if to remind them that they were not alone.

“A strong little one we have there,” Yuuri whispered. “Say… should we not get ready for our dinner with Sara and Mila?”

“There’s still enough time for that,” Viktor said, glancing at his watch. “Do you want to lie down and watch a terribly cheesy film with me?”

Yuuri would never say no to that.

* * *

“And then he turns to me and goes: what on earth are you wearing?! And I go: what does it look like, Mickey, it’s a dress! And I kid you not, he then grabs a towel to cover me with it! Can you believe that?!”

Sara rolled her eyes in annoyance and took a large sip of her wine. “He is such a pain in the arse sometimes, and I thought it would stop once I got married, but no! He became even worse!”

“Until I kicked him in the butt, that is,” Mila added with a mischievous grin. “And I mean that literally.”

“Well done,” Viktor chuckled and took the bottle of wine. “He should know better than to treat you like this. More wine, Sara?”

They had met with Sara and Mila at the Crispino’s private palazzo around eight o’clock in the evening, and never before had Yuuri and Viktor been more grateful for the distraction of friends. It would have done more harm than good for them to stay at their apartment, thinking on things endlessly, without proper distraction. At first, Yuuri had begun to wonder if they should go out at all, but now that he was sitting beside Sara, he realised how he had missed his friend. They had met several times already after getting to know each other on video calls, but never long enough, and never without the ever-annoying presence of her brother, Michele.

Said pestilence was now fortunately occupied with business in the south of Italy and would not disturb their evening.

Sara looked as good as ever, wearing a gorgeous summer gown that flattered her figure, and even Mila, who usually wore business attire, had put on something casual. Viktor and Yuuri had done the same, dressing more casually than they usually would.

Still, Yuuri was sure that Viktor’s Italian summer suit cost several thousand euros. At least, he had taken off his jacket, and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt.

“Yes, please,” Sara said and held up her glass. “Yuuri, are you okay there with your iced tea?”

“It’s delicious,” Yuuri assured her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t you miss drinking wine?” Sara asked, thanking Viktor before taking a sip.

“Not really, no,” Yuuri said. “I can still drink wine when the baby is here.”

“You must be so excited,” Mila said, leaning forward. “Have you thought about names yet?”

Yuuri exchanged a knowing look with Viktor.

“Not yet,” the Pakhan admitted. “We thought to make it rather, ah, spontaneously. When the baby is born. That was how Yuuri’s mother did it. It is a tradition in Japan for omegas, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Yuuri confirmed. “So we’ll wait.”

Sara sighed dreamily, leaning back in her chair. “That’s so romantic,” she said. “Mila, if we ever have children, we have to do the same.”

Mila huffed. “Darling, you would not even last a month before you would start looking for names.”

“Maybe,” Sara gave back. “But as I said, that’s only _if_ we have children. We have not decided yet,” she told Viktor and Yuuri. “We still have so many things that we want to do, right, Mila? And besides, we’re too young to worry about children just yet. Not like you, Viktor, with your hair already going grey.”

Yuuri laughed at that, and Viktor grimaced. “It’s silver, thank you very much.”

“I’m only joking,” Sara chuckled. “But I admire you two. I really do. Your marriage started like so many others, and yet, you have fallen in love with each other so deeply and fiercely. And now you are expecting your first child. That is a beautiful thing.”

Yuuri looked down at his belly, his heart fluttering at the thought of them becoming a family very soon. It was indeed a beautiful thing. One that he would have never dared to dream of. And yet, here he was.

“And although we’re not thinking about having kids yet,” Sara continued, “I think we have something in common.”

“And what is that?” Viktor asked curiously. “Besides the fact we are all incredibly handsome.”

Sara chuckled, and Mila laughed as Yuuri rolled his eyes at that.

“That, too. But we all are together with the one that we love, against the rest of the world. People made such a fuss when we got married, right, Mila? A Russian and an Italian. Bratva and Cosa Nostra. Same for you. Bratva and Yakuza. Unheard of before. And yet, we did it, and we showed them what we are capable of. And that is why they fear us. And it is what makes us so powerful. I don’t think that in our world, there were marriages like ours before. Marriages across borders and cultures.”

Yuuri looked at Viktor, reaching out to take his hand, just as Viktor reached out for him, too. Their fingers intertwined, and they did not need to say out loud what they thought, for they were thinking the same.

They were exceptionally lucky, especially in a world like theirs, where love and happiness rarely bloomed.

“And we must never let anyone destroy that,” Sara concluded, raising her glass. “To love, and to ever-lasting happiness.”

As their glasses clinked, Yuuri glanced at his husband, and found a pensive look in his beautiful eyes, as if a thought had just crossed his mind, and refused to leave him in peace. But just as quickly as it had come, it seemed to go again, and Viktor was smiling, and returned the toast.

But what it was that had come over Viktor for just a short moment, Yuuri could not tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be very happy if you gave my other stories a try <3
> 
> Let me know how you have been! How has this horrible year been treating you until now? I can't believe it's August already.


	21. Interlude: Affinity & Courtesy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this. So. much. fun.
> 
> I thought that Chris and Phichit deserved some love, so... I gave them what they deserved (and what they demanded of me).

As Phichit opened his eyes in the morning, he woke to the strange feeling of having nothing to do for the first time in months.

It did not sit quite right with him. He was used to being busy, to have his days filled with things to do from dawn until dusk, to have both his hands and his mind occupied with more or less important duties. However, the omega he had been hired to care for was not there, for Yuuri and Viktor had left for a little getaway in Venice, which had resulted in Phichit having a few days off, too.

An uneasy feeling settled in Phichit’s stomach, for he hated not having anything to do. The reason was simple. When being unoccupied, his mind began to wander, and he would start to brood over every possible thing under the sun.

It began to wander right towards the edge just now, and Phichit rolled over in bed with a groan, blindly reaching for his phone to check his messages.

There were only two. A message from his mother, sending him yet another recipe he had not asked for – but would try out nonetheless – and a picture sent to him by Chris late at night. Phichit felt his heart flutter as he tapped the picture to open it, thinking back to last night, when they had exchanged texts for over an hour, until they had not been able to keep their eyes open for much longer. The picture had been two hours after they had wished each other good night, and Phichit wondered why Chris had stayed awake.

The picture finally loaded, showing a majestic, white cat sitting on Chris’ lap. In the background, Phichit could make out the tv, showing the late-night news that started at 2 am.

It seemed that Chris had been unable to sleep.

Phichit was not given a lot of time to wonder, as the scratching noises at his door that had woken him in the first place became louder, followed by sad whines and a hopeful bark.

“I’m coming!” Phichit called and put his phone aside, rolling out of bed and approaching the door to let Makkachin in. The poodle almost knocked him over as she tried to give him a few wet dog kisses, and Phichit, clearly more a fan of small rodents like hamsters, barely managed to calm her down.

“Good morning, Milady,” he said, scratching her behind the ear. “You want to go for your morning walk?”

At the sound of ‘walk’, Makkachin began to wag her tail excitedly, and Phichit knew once more why this dog and the Pakhan were made for each other. Viktor, despite his calm, cold demeanour as the Pakhan, could be just like that.

‘Like an overexcited puppy’, Yuuri had told him once.

“Let me put something on, okay?” Phichit told her and turned towards his closet to put on some clothes. It was not too cold anymore, but the mornings could still be rather frosty, so Phichit put on a jacket over his shirt, his overall outfit far more casual than what he usually wore. But these were his days off, right?

“We need to get your leash first, okay?” He told Makkachin, who immediately ran off towards the door, down the hallway that led to her master’s apartment, Phichit following her with a yawn. As he opened the door for her, Makkachin barged into the room, her tail almost rotating like a propeller, barking as she headed straight for the door that led into Yuuri’s and Viktor’s bedroom. It was almost comical, Phichit thought as he watched her, how she stopped in her tracks, and he could have sworn that her jaw dropped at the sight of the empty beds. Upset, Makkachin turned around, looking around in the large living room, the question mark clear above her head.

Phichit took the leash from the table by the door and shook it lightly. “Your daddies are on holiday, remember?” he said and approached her, attaching the leash to her collar. “They will be back soon. Until then, we’ll have our fun together, yes?”

How could a dog look so adorable and so sad at the same time?

Phichit sighed and knelt down before her, squishing her cheeks together. “If you’re looking so sad, then who will go for a walk with me?”

‘Walk’ was the magic word, and Makkachin barked, her tail wagging again as she jumped up, and Phichit took her down the stairs, past the guards, and out into the morning sun.

She usually had a dog sitter for this, even if Viktor tried to go for a walk with her at least once a day. For the duration of their little holiday, Viktor had asked Phichit if he could take care of the only woman in his life, and who was Phichit to say no? Makkachin was good distraction, even if she pulled him out of bed at the most ridiculous hours in the morning. It was barely eight, the morning dew still on the tips of the grass that made up the perfectly cut lawn in front of Nikiforov Hall. It was quiet there, the only sounds the chirping birds and the crunching sound of the gravel beneath Phichit’s feet. Makkachin walked ahead, tail wagging in utter bliss as she headed for the iron gates, to the road that led down to the little town. Perhaps he could get some coffee there, Phichit thought, absentmindedly touching his pocket to check for his phone and wallet. It was a perfectly quiet, little town, more a village, actually, home to most of the household staff, and all of its inhabitants fiercely loyal to the Pakhan, even if they were not part of the Bratva. Unlike many other towns of this size in Russia, this one was well looked after, the houses in excellent condition, just like the roads. There was a doctor, a supermarket, a pharmacy, all the things one needed. All of this was Viktor’s doing, and brought him the people’s loyalty and support.

Phichit wondered for a moment if his own father had ever done something like that for the people of Bangkok, and caught himself laughing at the mere thought of it.

Some comparisons were simply beyond ridicule.

In town, Phichit went to the only coffee shop and ordered a cup of simple, black coffee with a splash of milk. The hot beverage in hand, he wandered through the small town with Makkachin before heading back towards the road leading up to Nikiforov Hall. Although those were his days off, there were still things he could do. Paperwork, for example. He could look through Yuuri’s closet and throw out all the things he didn’t wear anymore, or the things Viktor had torn in the heat of a passionate moment.

Lost in his thoughts like this did Phichit not hear the car until it stopped right beside him, the driver letting down the window.

Chris smiled at him, that alone knocking the breath out of Phichit’s lungs.

“Good morning,” he said, and Phichit noticed that Chris was wearing his glasses, the very ones that made him look like a super intelligent model, and that always made Phichit’s legs feel like made of jelly.

_Oh Lord, have mercy._

“Morning,” Phichit said, and hoped that Chris would not hear the shaking of his voice.

“Oh, you’re walking Makkachin,” Chris said and turned off the engine, the dog barking happily at the sound of her name. Phichit pulled her back so Chris could get out of the car, which Phichit realised was a shiny, incredibly expensive Tesla.

_Of course._

“She dragged me out of bed this morning,” Phichit said, watching as Chris knelt down to cuddle Makkachin the way she deserved.

_Good with pets, too._

_Yes, sure, make him even more perfect._

“She does that,” Chris chuckled and ruffled her fur. “I looked after her two years ago for a week. We had a lot of fun, right, Makka?”

“Did she get along with your cat?” Phichit asked, thinking back to the picture Chris had sent him.

Chris looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Makka and Madame Pompadour are the best of friends,” he said. Then, he rose to his feet again, his cheeks slowly turning red due to the cool morning air.

“You were up late last night,” Phichit said. “I’m sorry I didn’t see your message earlier.”

Chris shrugged, leaning against his car. “Don’t worry about it. I should have known you were asleep.”

“You couldn’t sleep, then?”

Chris sighed crossing his arms. “Sleep sometimes escapes me, yes. I hope you cannot see the dark shadows under my eyes.”

“Your concealer is working well,” Phichit assured him. “Why are you not staying home?”

Chris sighed again. “I wish I could. But my desk is covered in paperwork I have to finish. Now is the perfect time to do so. Without Viktor barging in all the time.”

Phichit laughed. “Yes. I know what you mean. I can now finally get some work done without disturbance.”

“Exactly.” Chris looked him up and down, as if taking in his clothes only just now. Immediately, Phichit felt incredibly underdressed, especially compared to the flawless outfit that Chris had chosen for today.

“Are you not cold?” Chris asked him, much to Phichit’s surprise. “This jacket does seem rather thin.”

“Oh, that,” Phichit blushed, touching his jacket. “It’s okay. Walking warms me up.”

“Do you need a ride back to the house?” Chris gestured at his car. “I’ve got seat heating.”

_Of course you do._

“But what about Makkachin?”

“She can get in the back, I don’t mind,” Chris assured him. “She’s been in my car before.”

“You are not worried she might chew on the leather?” Phichit asked, but Chris was already opening the door for the dog, and Makkachin jumped in with surprising ease for an old lady.

“Makkachin would never,” Chris said, and then he winked, and Phichit wanted to melt into a puddle then and there. “Are you coming?”

Phichit tore his eyes away from Makkachin and walked to the other side of the car, slipping into the passenger seat. It was warm.

Chris got in as well, and they were back on the road again. In the confined space of the car, Phichit was able to make out Chris’ scent. Betas were hard to smell, and most people thought they had no scent at all, but in such a small space with the A/C circulating the air, Phichit could not help but notice the surprisingly sweet scent of the other man. Almost like his mother’s.

“Is the coffee good?” Chris asked, breaking the silence.

“Huh?” Phichit looked down at the cup in his hands. “Oh. Yes. It’s really good. I got it from the coffee shop in town.”

“They recently changed owners,” Chris said. “The last ones made horrible coffee. Undrinkable shit. I haven’t tried the new one yet.”

“I can highly recommend it,” Phichit said. “Do you want a sip?”

Chris smiled at him before looking back on the road again. “I’d rather not risk burning myself.”

“Oh. Right.” Phichit blushed and looked down at his lap again.

_Stupid, stupid!_

Even after seven dates, they still were at the stage of many awkward silences. Phichit blamed himself for it – after all, he was the one with zero experience. Chris surely expected him to be more… active, to be bolder, but that was easier said (or thought) than done. Unless he clearly showed any ‘enthusiasm’, Chris would not do anything. They would just continue having dates with endless conversations, where they did not even hold hands. Chris seemed even to try to not touch him too much.

 _So much for my sex appeal_ , Phichit thought bitterly.

“Phichit?”

They had arrived at the manor, on the parking lot behind the south wing, but Chris made no move to get out.

“Hm?” Phichit looked up, freezing on the spot as he realised how close Chris was, having leant over the central console. His hand reached up to push a strand of hair out of Phichit’s face, the mere gesture making his heart beat so fast in his chest that he was sure Chris could hear it.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight at my place?” Chris asked. “And maybe watch a film?”

Phichit’s mouth went very dry.

“Ah… I… I’d love to,” he breathed. “B-But I can’t leave Makkachin alone.”

“Bring her with you,” Chris said. “She and Madame Pompadour get along very well.”

“Oh. Right.” He had said something like that a few minutes ago, right?

“Phichit, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Chris said calmly, and Phichit realised that he had noticed his hesitation. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Phichit’s eyes widened. “You’re not making me feel uncomfortable!” He assured him quickly. “I’m just surprised. A-And I don’t even know where you live.”

Chris smiled, his hand still in Phichit’s hair. “I live in town,” he said. “Down the river. The last house.” He leant closer, pressing a quick kiss to Phichit’s cheek before pulling away and unfastening his seatbelt. “I think Makkachin needs to pee.”

And indeed, Makkachin was shuffling around nervously on the expensive leather seats, and Phichit hurried to let her out of the car, from where she darted off towards the garden to take care of her business like a proper lady, away from prying eyes.

The spot on his cheek where Chris had kissed him was still burning, and Phichit was sure he would never wash his cheek again for as long as he lived.

“I’ll see you tonight, then?” Chris asked, locking the car. “At seven?”

Phichit nodded. “Seven it is.”

“Perfect.” Chris smiled at him, warm and genuine, as if he were actually looking forward to their date.

It was a date, right?

“It will be our eighth date, then,” Chris said.

Oh yes. It was very much a date.

“You know what that means?”

Something very cold ran down Phichit’s spine. “W-What does it mean?” He asked, his voice a lot higher than he wanted it to be.

Chris grinned and leant down to him, his green eyes far too gorgeous to be actually real.

“I cook.”

* * *

Phichit followed Chris’ directions down the river that night, walking past the most adorable row of houses he had ever seen. It was a charming, quiet neighbourhood, a place for both families and elderly people, but a surprisingly odd choice of residence for a single man like Chris. Phichit had always assumed that he lived in St. Petersburg, in a shiny, modern apartment in an expensive part of town. But the fact that Chris’ Tesla was parked in front of the last house on the street, right next to the riverbank, told him the opposite.

It was a pretty house, almost a cottage, small and well-looked after despite its age. The lights were on, and from where he stood on the pavement, Phichit could see a pretty, white cat sleeping on the windowsill of what appeared to be a kitchen. A kitchen in which Chris was standing with his back to the window, preparing a meal.

Makkachin saw him, and especially Madame Pompadour, and began to bark happily. The cat’s ears twitched, but Chris turned around, spotting them outside. He waved, then wiped his hands on his apron, and headed out of the room.

“So much for a quiet arrival,” Phichit sighed and approached the front door, just as Chris opened it.

“Hi,” Phichit said with a smile and greeted Chris with a hug.

“Hi there,” Chris said, and Phichit could swear he had just kissed his hair. “Did you find it easily?”

“I did,” Phichit said, then showed Chris his bag. “I was not sure if you liked wine, so I thought maybe some dessert would be a good idea.”

“Oh, that sounds great,” Chris said and stepped aside to let him in. “Is that from the bakery down the road?”

He helped Phichit out of his coat and then showed him the way to the living room. It was just as Phichit had imagined it judging by the exterior of the house. It was small, but homely and cosy, the floor made of old wooden planks, covered in soft carpets. A big, comfortable sofa – of which Phichit swore he had seen it in an IKEA catalogue – stood in front of an actual chimney in which a fire was crackling. On the other side of the room, a dining table had been set, including fresh flowers. The walls were ornamented with tasteful, framed photography, but also the occasional art print.

None of this, not even the kitchen into which he could peek from where he stood, seemed incredibly expensive. Except for Madame Pompadour, maybe, who had jumped from the windowsill and now came to greet them, purring as she rubbed her head against Phichit’s leg before bumping her head against Makkachin’s.

“Your home is amazing,” Phichit said, following Chris to the kitchen where a pot simmered on the stove with some sort of sauce. In the oven, Phichit spotted glazed salmon. “It’s so…”

“Small?” Chris smiled.

Phichit chuckled. “That, too. But I meant to say that it feels very homely.”

“Thank you,” Chris said, and Phichit was not sure if he was imagining things or if the man actually blushed. “That was my intention. My grandmother’s house was like that, too.”

“Oh?” Phichit had never heard anything about Chris’ family directly from him, and he sat down on a chair to listen.

“Yep. But it was filled with so much useless clutter. She used to collect angel figures.” Chris turned back to the stove, stirring in the pot and then taking a look at the salmon. “They were everywhere. On every table, every windowsill, in every cupboard. I swear, every single day, at least one of them broke because her house was so small and you could barely turn around without knocking something over. But I loved it there.”

Phichit could not help but smile at the image of a little Chris, sitting in the midst of porcelain angels in a tiny, Swiss home.

“Grandmothers’ houses should feel like that, I think,” Phichit said. “Places full of love.”

“Was your grandmother’s house like that, too?” Chris asked, joining him at the kitchen table.

Phichit shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. They both died before I was born.”

“I’m sorry,” Chris said softly. “And I’m being a terrible host. What would you like to drink? I have some wine in the fridge, and iced tea.”

“I’m going for the iced tea,” Phichit said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Absolutely not,” Chris chuckled and went to the fridge to get their drinks. “I was hoping you would choose the iced tea. I made it myself.”

“Self-made is best,” Phichit said, watching Chris pour each of them a glass. At his remark, he believed to spot yet another blush on Chris’ cheeks. It was a beautiful thing to see.

“There you go,” Chris said, handing Phichit his glass. “I hope you like fish. I was not sure what to cook, but salmon is usually a safe choice.”

“I like it, yes,” Phichit said, glancing at the oven. “It smells great. Is it a special recipe?”

Chris nodded. “An old family recipe. Cliché, I know.”

Phichit raised an eyebrow. “My mother sends me several family recipes a week. And I don’t even have a kitchen.”

Chris gestured broadly at the room behind him. “Feel free to occupy my kitchen whenever you feel like it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Phichit said, taking a small sip from the iced tea. Just as expected, it was delicious.

Was this man good at everything?

“I mean it,” Chris added, and suddenly, he seemed nervous, as if surprised by the boldness of his own statement. “If you ever feel like cooking and need some space to do it, I’d be happy to have you. I mean, you can have my kitchen.”

The blush on his face was no illusion this time, and Phichit was sure to witness something incredibly rare. To see Chris flustered like this was something he would have never expected – especially not because of him.

“Okay, I am digging my own grave here,” Chris sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Phichit, I invited you tonight because I really like having you around, and I thought that perhaps in this setting, we’d get to know each other better instead of at restaurants or galleries or at work. I didn’t invite you here to whip out the book of seduction, I just…” He seemed at a loss for words, and the most uncomfortable Phichit had ever seen him. His shoulders hung low, and he grabbed the edges of the counter behind him as he looked at Phichit through those long, gorgeous lashes that Phichit had always admired.

“I want to get to know you, properly,” Chris said, his voice so incredibly soft that it made Phichit’s knees go weak, and he was glad that he was already sitting. “And I really don’t mind that we are taking things slow. I like talking to you about books, films, art, and all the other things that we enjoy. I’m… very content when I’m spending time with you.”

The image that Phichit had always had of Chris seemed to transform in this very moment, not just in his head, but also right there, before him. It was replaced with a less perfect, yes, more imperfect and more human version of the man he had begun to like so very much. A man of flesh and bone that seemed just as nervous, just as insecure as Phichit felt whenever he was with him, and that alone soothed his nerves immensely.

“I like that, too,” Phichit said softly. “Very much.”

If he had only been able to take a picture of Chris’ face in this very moment.

So many emotions were in it, far too many for Phichit to catch them all. There was surprise, bewilderment, amazement, worry, anxiety, embarrassment, and so much more. But above all, there was joy, and as the smile returned to Chris’ face, the very one that always knocked the breath out of Phichit’s lungs, he knew everything would be just fine.

And then, Phichit caught sight of the oven, and he yelled: “Chris, the food!!!”

In the end, they managed to save the salmon, scratching off the parts that were slightly burned whilst laughing to themselves. Phichit assured Chris that he had seen much worse – that all of his sisters were horrible cooks, really – and they sat down to eat at the small table in the living room, the vase of fresh flowers between their plates and quiet music in the background.

“So what is your favourite film?” Chris asked him, pushing the salad around on his plate. “We often talk about films but I don’t think we have ever talked about our favourites.”

Phichit tilted his head to the side in thought. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I guess I don’t have one favourite film but several. I like Jane Austen adaptions.”

“Like Pride and Prejudice?” Chris asked.

Phichit nodded. “Oh yes! Pride and Prejudice, but I also like Sense and Sensibility very much.”

“Pride and Prejudice was good,” Chris agreed. “Keira Knightley did a great job.”

Phichit paused in his movement of reaching for the iced tea, raising an eyebrow at the other man. “Keira Knightley? You think that the version with Keira Knightley is good?”

Chris blinked. “It’s not?”

Phichit took a deep breath and clasped his hands on this lap, bracing himself for this very, very important conversation. No, he could not let this pass.

“The only valid adaption of Pride and Prejudice is the one made by the BBC in 1995. Starring Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle. It is a masterpiece from start to finish. The costumes are impeccable. The cinematography is superb. There is not a moment in television history more iconic than the complete destruction of Mr Darcy’s ego by Elizabeth don’t-fuck-with-me Bennet. And no, I do not accept any objections.”

He picked up his fork and knife again and continued to eat, waiting for a response.

But Chris only chuckled, a gentle laugh so warm and soft.

“You had me at Colin Firth,” he said. “I’m looking forward to watching it, then.”

“What is your favourite movie, then?” Phichit asked.

“Chocolat,” Chris said immediately. “The one with Johnny Depp. Have you ever seen it?”

Phichit shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it. Is it good?”

“It is very good,” Chris said. “We could watch it tonight, if you want?”

His eyes were shining, clearly looking forward to watching his favourite film again, and that alone made him even more perfect in Phichit’s eyes.

As if he did not think him to be perfect already.

“I’d love to,” Phichit said, and Chris’ face lit up even more.

“After dessert, then,” he said and reached for Phichit’s empty glass. “More iced tea?”

Phichit was glad that he had chosen the tea over wine, for he was sure that he would not have been able to keep a clear head, or to stay sane, if he drank only so much as a single sip of alcohol tonight. It was one thing to go out with Chris to have dinner at a restaurant, or to go to an art gallery with him. A small dinner like this, in Chris’ very own home, was the most intimate thing they had ever done, much more intimate than the passionate kiss they had shared in the still of the night. Over dessert, which consisted of two delicious pieces of lemon tart, they talked about all sorts of things that came to mind. From how Chris and Viktor had met – “School was _wild_.” – to what had made Phichit want to study Omega Care in the first place. When they finally moved from the dinner table to the sofa – _definitely_ IKEA – Phichit had already laughed more than he’d had in weeks. It was so much better to spend time with Chris like this, with no one else around to interrupt them. Chris put the DVD in and sat down beside Phichit on the sofa, Makkachin and Madame Pompadour on the carpet, watching them almost like chaperones as the film began.

“Do you want some tea?” Chris asked suddenly. “Actual tea, I mean. Or hot chocolate?”

“Tea, please,” Phichit said and pulled his legs up. “I think hot chocolate would be a bit much after dinner and the cake.”

“True,” Chris agreed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. “Do you want Earl Grey? Green tea?” He called.

“Earl Grey is fine!” Phichit called back, trying to focus on the beginning of the film to not miss anything. The film had to be special if it was Chris’ favourite, and he did not want to miss any potential details.

Chris came back a few minutes later, tea mugs in hand as he carefully stepped over Makkachin and Madame Pompadour and joined Phichit on the sofa.

“Thank you,” Phichit said and took the mug from him, and Chris smiled at him, making his heart flutter anew.

Good God.

“What’s your favourite chocolate?” Chris asked as the woman in the film opened her patisserie for the first time.

Phichit sipped his tea. “Hm… I like _Noisette_ by Milka. It’s German, I think?”

“German-Swiss,” Chris said with a smile. “I know it. My grandmother used to have a bar in the drawer next to her armchair at all times. Back then, it was still wrapped into—”

“Tin foil!” Phichit grinned as Chris said it.

“Yes,” Chris said, his eyes sparkling with delight. “That was the best, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely,” Phichit said. “I can still hear the sound of the tin foil. Nowadays the wrapping is made of plastic.”

“Sadly, yes,” Chris agreed with a sigh, taking a sip from his own tea, his eyes returning to the screen.

Phichit found that after he had drunk his tea, it was immensely hard to stay focused, to keep his eyes on the screen and not turn his head to look at Chris, who seemed so much more interesting, so much more fascinating to him than what happened in the film. It was not a bad one, by any means, more like a fairy tale for adults, and yet another attempt of British-American filmmakers to capture the essence of France. But this was the first time he was actually alone with Chris, in such a private setting, their date having an open end.

And that could mean so many things.

Phichit’s heart almost stopped beating when he felt the brush of Chris’ hand against his finger, barely noticeable but unmistakingly _there_. At first Phichit did not react, and he kept looking at the television, trying to focus at anything else but at the fact that Chris’ hand was near his, for it was surely an accident.

But then, it happened again, Chris’ little finger brushing against Phichit’s, and this time, definitely not by accident. Phichit held his breath, daring to glance down at the spot between them for less than a second.

“Phichit?” Chris asked softly, and Phichit looked up. “Can I hold your hand?”

Phichit wanted to melt into a puddle then and there.

“Y-Yes, sure,” he breathed, and his hand slipped into Chris’ almost on its own, as if it had belonged there all along.

Chris gave him a warm smile. “Thank you,” he whispered before turning his head towards the television again, and so did Phichit.

It was fascinating what things could run through one’s mind at the same time. A part of Phichit’s brain was trying to follow the story of the film, but another, much bigger part was trying to not freak out because of the fact that he was holding hands with Chris. It was not the first time, for Chris always took his hand when helping him out of the taxi or up a few stairs, but it had always served a clearly defined purpose. It had never been like this – the act of holding hands only because one wanted to feel the warmth of the other person, and have the reassurance that this moment was real.

It was so very real, and it felt wonderful.

At some point, Madame Pompadour jumped onto Chris’ lap, and Phichit was sure he would withdraw his hand to pet the cat instead But Chris’ left hand stayed where it was, his right hand coming up to stroke her instead, and he gave Phichit hand a squeeze, as if to reassure him.

Phichit squeezed back.

As the end credits started rolling, Phichit finally dared to turn his head again and look at Chris, who had apparently just decided to do the same, for their eyes met, and they both began to smile.

“That was a nice film,” Phichit said softly. “I can see why you like it.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Chris said.

They were still holding hands.

“It’s getting late,” Chris remarked, glancing at the clock above the dining table.

Phichit followed his gaze. It was almost eleven.

“Oh, yes,” he said, glancing down at Makkachin, who was looking up at him expectantly. She wanted to go home, to her dog bed, the only place where she could sleep peacefully, according to Viktor.

“Do you…” Chris began carefully, his right hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. “Would you like to come over again tomorrow? We could either cook or order something, and watch Pride and Prejudice.”

Phichit’s gaze snapped back to him. “Keira Knightley or Colin Firth?”

“Colin Firth, of course,” Chris promised solemnly. “It’s on Netflix, right?”

“It is,” Phichit nodded. “I’d love to come over again.”

“Wonderful,” Chris said, and it seemed as if he were genuinely happy about the answer.

Perhaps, Phichit told himself, he should believe it.

Perhaps Chris was indeed happy about him coming over again very soon.

“Are you sure you want to walk back to the house?” Chris asked as they stood by the front door, Phichit putting on his jacket. They had had to let go of each other’s hands eventually, but that did not mean that Phichit did not miss his touch.

He missed it very much.

But Makkachin wanted to go home and tolerated no further delay, as she began to scratch on Chris’ door to get out.

“I think the Missus here needs a brisk walk,” Phichit chuckled and took Makkachin’s leash. “Tonight was wonderful, Chris. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Chris said, and for a moment, they stood awkwardly in the hallway, not sure what else to say or do, and Phichit held his breath as Chris suddenly leant in, but the kiss only landed on his cheek.

Better than nothing.

“Good night, Phichit,” Chris said softly. “Text me when you get back.”

“I will,” Phichit promised, his heart racing from the kiss that seemed so innocent but did unspeakable things to his imagination. “Good night, Chris.”

The cool evening air did little to soothe his nerves as he walked, and neither did the cold shower Phichit took upon arriving back at Nikiforov Hall. Just before he went to bed, he took his phone, sending Chris the last text of today.

_Home now. Thank you for tonight. It was wonderful. Good night :-)_

The answer came immediately, and Phichit almost fell out of bed at the sight.

_I loved tonight, too. Sleep well <3 _

Right there, at the end of the text, was a heart emoji.

* * *

The moment Chris opened his door the next evening, he saw the tiredness in Phichit’s face.

“What happened?” He asked worriedly as he stepped aside to let him and Makkachin in, the dog running straight to the living room to greet Madame Pompadour.

“This dog,” Phichit sighed as he took off his coat. “She gave me one hell of a fright today. I left her alone in the office for maybe five minutes, and I come back to her sitting in the midst of bonbon wrappers.”

“Oh shit.” Chris’ eyes widened.

“Yeah,” Phichit replied sourly as he took off his shoes. “I grabbed her and drove to the vet with her. Turns out she didn’t eat any of those that are poisonous to dogs, but they gave her something nonetheless. And when we came back home, she ran into the garden and straight into a hedgehog.”

Phichit looked Chris dead in the eye, exhaustion clear in his face.

“So back to the vet it was. Pulling spikes out of her paws.”

“Did you call Viktor?” Chris asked, taking Phichit to the kitchen to pour him a drink.

“I called Yuuri,” Phichit said. “Because Viktor would have come through the phone right at me. But he was calmer than I thought.” He took the glass of water that Chris offered him and leant against the kitchen counter.

“So Makkachin’s paws are pierced now?” Chris chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes,” Phichit laughed and took a sip from the water. “But now she’s behaving as if nothing has happened at all.” He leant forward, peeking into the living room where Makkachin had curled up on the carpet again, right beside Madame Pompadour, who sniffed him curiously.

“Sounds like you had a rather exhausting day,” Chris said, reaching out to touch Phichit’s hand. “I’ve ordered Korean food. I hope that’s alright?”

Phichit looked at him in utter adoration. “I was dreaming about Korean food all day,” he said softly.

“And I’ve got something to snack on during Pride and Prejudice,” Chris said and went to the fridge, pulling out a bar of Milka’s _Noisette_ chocolate.

Phichit almost burst into tears then and there.

The food arrived and Chris arranged everything neatly on their plates before carrying them to the living room, this time straight to the sofa. On the big screen, the first episode of Pride and Prejudice was waiting for them.

“This is the life,” Phichit sighed and sat down on the sofa, taking his plate from Chris. “You really don’t mind watching this version?” He asked, suddenly concerned. “We can watch the other one if you like…”

“Nonsense,” Chris said and sat down beside him. “I am in the mood for Colin Firth. Aren’t you?”

“Always,” Phichit agreed, and Chris pressed ‘play’.

While they ate, Chris glanced at Phichit every now and then, watching him react to what he saw on screen, and it was clear how much of a big fan he was. Chris had read a few Austen novels as a teenager, and he had enjoyed it, but he had never paid much attention to the details in the adaptions. Phichit obviously had, and he began to point out all the interesting things between taking bites of his food.

“Did you know it’s one of the BBC’s most successful mini series of all time?” Phichit said as Mr Darcy made his first remark about the Bennet sisters. “They have made several of classic literature.”

“I think my mother has a box set of Little Dorrit,” Chris said. “But I’m not sure. We don’t really talk.”

“Oh.” Phichit put down his half-eaten plate. “You don’t have a good relationship?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Chris said. “I just did not grow up with her around. I spent a lot of time at boarding schools.”

Phichit shifted a little on the sofa, reaching out for Chris’ hand as if it were the most normal thing in the world for them, as if they had been holding hands all along.

For Chris, it was the best thing in the world.

“That must have been…” Phichit thought carefully about his next words.

“It was okay,” Chris assured him. “I found a lot of friends. Viktor, for example. My parents were busy, so I spent my holidays with Viktor, too.”

“At Nikiforov Hall?” Phichit asked.

“Sometimes,” Chris nodded. “Believe me, this place has always been more of a home to me than my parents’ house. I was a disappointment to them as a beta, so I could more or less do what I wanted while they focused on my alpha brother.”

Phichit sighed heavily. “I know that only too well. My father ignores me, too. But that lets me do what I want.”

Chris raised his glass at that. “To freedom, then.”

Phichit took his own drink in hand and let their glasses clink. “To freedom.”

They were quiet after that – not that Chris did mind. They had spent their first five dates talking without end, learning so much about the other, and at the same time, keeping so many secrets. Some things were best not said aloud immediately, but released in small portions, such as uncomfortable memories of one’s childhood. Chris knew only too well what it meant to be the beta son, the disappointment, but Phichit had at least had a loving mother and good siblings. Chris had no relationship with his younger brother, and his relationship with his parents was neutral at best.

It had taken him some time to realise that he had to find a family of his own, a family that consisted of friends.

And then, he had met Phichit.

Phichit, who was still holding his hand, and moving closer and closer to him. Phichit, who kept hiding his yawns behind his hand although he was obviously tired. Phichit, who watched Pride and Prejudice with utter fascination, who rested his head against Chris’ shoulder, and allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment.

Chris smiled to himself and ran a hand through Phichit’s hair.

“Sorry,” Phichit mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “I’m just so tired…”

“It’s okay,” Chris assured him. “You can close your eyes.”

“But I want to watch the film with you…” Phichit groaned, almost like a child.

God, was he adorable!

“There’s no shame in closing your eyes for a while,” Chris assured him. “I’ll wake you for all the important bits. Colin Firth looking good. Colin Firth taking off his shirt…”

Phichit frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Phichit, what do you think comes up on Google when you search ‘Colin Firth Mr Darcy’?”

That seemed enough of an answer, and Phichit yawned again before leaning against Chris, who wrapped an arm around him and held him close.

The warmth of his embrace alone was enough for Phichit to drift off to sleep within a few minutes. Chris reached for the quilt he kept over the backrest of the sofa and put it over Phichit’s lap, the other man instinctively snuggling closer to him.

Madame Pompadour stretched out with yawn, curling up between Makkachin’s feet by the fire.

This was what he wanted, Chris realised, just this and nothing else. A humble dream it was, admittedly. A home, a loved one to come home to. To spend his evenings like this, Phichit in his arms, with the world at peace.

Nothing more did he want.

But it was a noble dream, a wish that could most likely never be fulfilled. A peaceful life was not meant for them. They had been born into the world of crime and could never leave it alive. It was a fact all of them had accepted a long time ago, and Chris could not help but think back to the many conversations he had had with Viktor about it. For them, there was only one possible path in life, with very limited possibilities. Viktor was lucky because he had found Yuuri, and loved him so much that he probably forgot about the sorrows that this particular life brought him.

Perhaps he could have the same, or something similar, with Phichit.

A life with a loved one whilst the world around them burned.

Chris closed his eyes and buried his face in Phichit’s hair with a sigh.

* * *

When Phichit came over the following evening, he was alone.

“No Makkachin?” Chris asked as he let him in.

“I left her with Otabek tonight,” Phichit said, pushing the two pizza cartons into Chris’ arms. “I needed some time off. Just to sleep.”

Chris laughed, taking the pizzas from him and carrying them to the living room where episode three of Pride and Prejudice was already waiting for them. “She’s quite a handful.”

Phichit huffed. “I don’t even want to imagine what she was like as a puppy.”

“She was Viktor’s pride and joy. Well, she still is.” Chris put down the pizzas and got them something to drink before settling beside Phichit on the sofa. Phichit nervously pulled down his pullover, the piece of clothing a bit too short, but it was his favourite, and Chris had complimented him once while he had worn it. Chris himself looked as perfect as ever, wearing an expensive, knitted sweater in a dark burgundy colour and a pair of dark jeans. In another life, Phichit was sure, he could have been a successful model, just like the Pakhan.

“I won’t fall asleep tonight,” Phichit promised as they started the third episode.

“I didn’t mind,” Chris assured him and immediately put an arm around him.

Phichit froze.

“Not good?” Chris asked immediately, ready to withdraw his arm, but then, Phichit settled against his side.

“No, no, very good,” Phichit said with a blush on his cheeks. “I… I mean… this is nice,” he added quietly.

“I agree,” Chris said softly and pulled the first pizza carton on his lap.

Sometimes, Phichit thought as he curled up at Chris’s side, pizza was a feast for the gods.

“I think I can see now why you like this version better,” Chris remarked towards the end of the third episode, the pizza cartons empty and stacked on the coffee table. “It takes its time to explore all details.”

“And Mr Darcy is not a whiny emo kid,” Phichit added, which caused Chris to laugh out loud.

“Yes! I was wondering how to put it into words. But you are right. He’s not a whiny emo kid.”

Just then, Phichit noticed the heavy rain pattering against the window. He had been so focused on the show – and on the fact that Chris was holding him and stroking the back of his hand with his fingertips – that he had not paid attention to anything else.

“That’s some heavy rain,” he remarked, causing Chris to look at the window as well. “I didn’t bring an umbrella with me.”

“You could stay the night,” Chris suggested.

Phichit stared at him, his mouth going dry.

“Stay the night?” He asked, his voice embarrassingly high as he spoke, and he was sure that his face had turned beet red.

Chris nodded, his eyes warm and inviting. “If you want to, that is. You are most welcome.”

A million things were going through Phichit’s mind at once, many of the thoughts familiar, the ones that usually came with the panic he felt whenever he thought of the fact that he was a virgin and that Chris was—well, Chris. He was less than inexperienced. Phichit had kissed exactly two people in his life, and one of them had been a classmate in high school, the other one had been Chris, a few months ago. Since then, nothing had happened.

Chris had probably kissed a lot of people.

Chris had probably slept with tons of people.

Compared to Chris, Phichit felt incredibly pathetic.

_Get a grip, Chulanont!_

“I—I would love to stay,” Phichit said softly, feeling his heart flutter in his chest, and even more so when Chris’ eyes began to sparkle in utter delight. “But I don’t have anything to sleep in…”

“I’ll lend you some of my clothes,” Chris said, just as episode three ended and episode four was about to begin.

“Thank you,” Phichit whispered and settled against Chris’ chest again, and he believed to feel Chris’ heart beat a little faster than usual.

His own was racing like crazy.

It was good that Phichit knew Pride and Prejudice by heart, both the book and the mini series, for if someone had asked him about what they had been watching that night, Phichit would not have been able to give an answer. Episode four was one of his favourites, and usually, he watched it attentively, but not tonight. Not when he was about to spend a night with Chris, in Chris home, and, most likely, in Chris bed.

God only knew what things could happen in such a bed.

As the famous lake scene came up on screen, both Chris and Phichit held their breaths, anticipating the moment they had both been waiting for. And indeed it was a glorious sight to watch Colin Firth undress and jump into the lake of Pemberley. Phichit had watched that particular scene so many times, especially as a teenager, when the nights had been lonely and he had been… well, needy. But it was even more scandalous now, he realised, watching it together with Chris, who held his breath just the way he did, and when he dared to look up at him, he saw that Chris was looking at him, too.

He was so close.

And so were his lips.

“Phichit,” Chris whispered, his hand coming up to touch his cheek.

“Y-Yes?” Phichit squeaked, a shiver running down his spine as he felt Chris’ breath on his skin, his touch almost electrifying.

Chris took his time with his response, his finger gently running along Phichit’s cheekbone, as if to memorise all details of Phichit’s face.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked quietly.

Phichit held his breath, and although it was not their first kiss, although Chris had asked before, he felt as overwhelmed as if he had never been touched by him. But Chris was close, so very close, and he was looking at him with nothing but warmth and patience, ready to pull away if he had to.

Not that Phichit would have ever wanted him to.

“Yes, you can,” Phichit whispered and cupped his cheek in return, leaning up to press their lips together.

In an instant, Chris’ hand was in his hair, pulling him closer as they melted into the kiss, ignoring the television in the background where Mr Darcy had just been discovered by Elizabeth Bennet. What Phichit discovered now was similar, for just like Elizabeth Bennet did with Mr Darcy, he got to experience a side of Chris he had not known before. A side that was passionate and gentle at the same time, a side that held him close, that cradled the back of his head, that caressed his cheek as they kissed, slowly, unhurried, as if the world had stopped turning just for them. As if this was their moment only.

Chris pulled away to let them breathe, and as Phichit opened his eyes again, he saw that his lover’s cheeks were adorned with the most beautiful blush.

His lover.

The thought alone made Phichit shiver. Was Chris his lover? His boyfriend? If not any of these, then what was he?

“What are you thinking about?” Chris asked softly, running his thumb across Phichit’s jawline. “I hope I was not being too forward.”

Phichit shook his head softly. “No. It was perfect.”

Chris chuckled. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, leaning in for another, gentle kiss that only lasted for a second, but it was enough to set Phichit’s heart on fire. “I was thinking about kissing you all day.”

“Really?” Phichit breathed.

Chris nodded softly. “And not just today. I thought about kissing you every single day since the night we kissed for the very first time.”

Phichit swallowed thickly at the confession, for it seemed so unreal, so unlikely that someone like Chris wanted someone like him. That Chris thought about kissing him all the time.

Not that he had not done the same.

“Are you worried, Phichit?” Chris asked him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Was he really such an open book to him?

“If you are anything like Viktor says that Yuuri is,” Chris began carefully, “then let me tell you that you are absolutely gorgeous. I catch myself looking at you all the time, and every single time it knocks the breath out of my lungs when you smile at me. Whenever we spend time together, I feel so at ease. And I don’t think that I’m imagining things.” He gently pushed a strand of hair out of Phichit’s face. “I like you so much, Phichit. And I really want to be with you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Even if Phichit had been able to compose a comprehensible answer he would not have been able to say any of it out loud without making a fool of himself. His mouth was too dry, his heart racing too fast, his mind too overwhelmed. Not to mention the fact that Chris was still touching him, caressing his cheek, stroking the back of his hand. It was all too much, but Phichit did not want any of this to end.

“I like you, too,” Phichit managed to say, and he had no idea how. “I like you so much.”

Chris smiled. “Will you be my boyfriend, then?”

“Yes,” Phichit whispered, and hugged him tightly.

On the screen, the end credits came up.

They did not watch episode five, but changed to the regular television programme. Chris had put on BBC World News, the only English channel they could watch, but neither of them really paid attention to the news. Instead, Phichit found himself on Chris’ lap, kissing him as if he had never kissed him before, now for the first time as his boyfriend.

It was the best feeling in the world.

“We are taking things slow, aren’t we?” Chris asked between kisses. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Phichit pulled away from the kiss, looking Chris in the eye. “I may be a virgin but I’m not a baby.”

The words were out before he even knew what he was saying, and for a moment, he feared that Chris would stare at him in shock and then laugh.

But Chris did nothing of the sort.

“I know it often seems like I was Casanova, according to Viktor,” Chris said, “but I can assure you that I’m not. I enjoy flirting, but not one night stands. I’ve only had two partners. In bed, that is.”

Phichit blinked. “What?”

Chris nodded. “Yes. My ex-partner, and Viktor.”

“Viktor?!” Phichit gasped. “You’re kidding me!”

Chris chuckled. “We were young. Fifteen, I think. It was a long summer and we were on our own. It didn’t mean a lot to either of us.”

Phichit let out a deep sigh. “Good lord…”

Chris frowned. “Does that bother you? I can assure you, Viktor and I have no—”

“I’m not bothered by it,” Phichit assured him, his arms still wrapped around Chris’ neck. “It’s just… surprising? I know how Viktor looks at Yuuri…”

“Believe me, Viktor never looked at me like that, and I didn’t fancy him at any point.”

Phichit nodded. Yes, he could live with that.

People did all sorts of things when they were teenagers and needy.

“And… your ex-partner?”

“Masumi and I were together for three years,” Chris said. “We broke up four years ago and I’ve been celibate since then. As I said, I’m not a fan of quick adventures.”

Phichit nodded, understanding. “And it does not bother you that I’m… well…”

“Phichit, why on earth would I care?” Chris asked him softly and gently rubbed his waist. “Believe me, there are so many things that would bother me first before your lack of sexual adventures would even begin to make me think. Sex isn’t everything, contrary to popular belief.”

“I know that,” Phichit said, sounding more defensive than he had thought. “I just feel… pathetic sometimes for my lack of experience.”

“There is absolutely no need,” Chris assured him and kissed him. “Which does not mean that I’m not acknowledging your concerns. We have all the time in the world for things like that.”

Phichit could have hugged him then and there if he had not already been doing that.

“So you don’t mind if we… take it slow and wait?” He asked hesitantly.

“I think taking it slow is a fantastic idea,” Chris said, giving his hip a gentle squeeze. “Are you tired, darling?”

“A little,” Phichit said. “I think I’m… too jittery to sleep.”

Chris chuckled. “That’s what you said to me the night we kissed for the very first time. Do you remember?”

“I only remember the kiss, but not what I said,” Phichit said, leaning in to get just another, incredibly gentle kiss from his boyfriend.

His _boyfriend_.

“Shall we watch the news for a while until we’re tired enough?”

“That sounds perfect,” Phichit sighed and curled up at Chris’ chest, stopping himself from kissing him again because he knew that it would certainly destroy their plans to take things slow. The news were boring, awfully so, but it was just what they needed to calm down after what they had just done.

And over it all, they had completely forgotten about Colin Firth.

* * *

Phichit stared at the ceiling of Chris’ bedroom, unable to sleep.

He was alone. After the news, Chris had shown him the bedroom, had given him a shirt and sweatpants to sleep in, and had then grabbed half of the bedding to sleep on the sofa. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, Peach,” he had said when Phichit had asked, and in that moment, it had seemed like a sensible choice. Yes, perhaps it was good if they slept separately for now, at least tonight, when everything was still fresh and exciting and Phichit always very close to a nervous breakdown.

But now that he lay in Chris’ incredibly comfortable bed and listened to the sound of the rain on the roof, he found the entire idea utterly ridiculous. This was Chris’ bed. In Chris’ house. And Chris slept on the couch, together with Madame Pompadour, who had jumped on the sofa the moment Phichit had left to brush his teeth.

Phichit sat up with a sigh and rubbed his eyes before he sat back against the headboard and let his gaze wander. Just like the rest of the house, the bedroom was small, but cosy. The walls were ornamented with various framed photographs and an actual painting by Alphonse Mucha above the bed. The bed in question was definitely by IKEA, too, just like the bedside tables, but the wardrobe looked almost ancient. On the windowsill stood a few plants as well as a photograph of a younger Chris with an old woman that was most likely his infamous grandmother. Beside the picture stood a small porcelain figure of an angel. At that, Phichit smiled a little.

Although the bedroom was small and stuffed with things, it felt empty now without Chris, and Phichit let out a heavy sigh.

This was absolutely ridiculous.

As if they were not able to keep their hands to themselves!

His decision firm in mind, Phichit slipped out of bed, quietly walking to the door that led out into the hallway. On the tips of his toes he walked to the living room, pausing for a moment in the doorframe, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he proceeded. Chris lay on the sofa, Madame Pompadour by his feet, his arms stretched out above his head.

Only as Phichit came closer, he saw that Chris was awake, too.

Their eyes met, and Phichit sat down on the edge of the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked quietly, reaching out for Phichit’s hand. “You can’t sleep?”

Phichit shook his head. “I don’t think either of us will be able to sleep, unless we both sleep here on the couch or in that big bed of yours. And to be honest, the bed seems like a much better option.”

Chris smiled at that. “Are you sure?” He asked in a low voice, tracing invisible patterns on the back of Phichit’s hand. “Are you not worried about me being suddenly all over you?”

“As if you were not worried about the same in return,” Phichit replied dryly, much to Chris surprise, for he raised an eyebrow at Phichit’s blunt statement. But then, he began to grin, and he sat up, carefully gathering his blanket and pillow.

“Off to bed, then?”

Phichit nodded and got up, walking back to the bedroom in the dark whilst the rain pattered heavily against the roof and the windows. In the bedroom, he slipped under the warm covers again, waiting for Chris to settle beside him.

They lay beside each other in silence, watching the other in the scarce light coming through the curtains. Merely days ago, Phichit would have thought such a moment to be entirely out of reach. But Chris was there, right beside him, so incredibly beautiful in the dimmed light. He could still see his eyes, the beautiful colour of them, and saw the utter adoration in them that was meant for only him.

It was surreal, Phichit thought, that someone like Chris could like him.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Chris said quietly.

Phichit reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers under the covers. “I would always trust you.”

Holding hands, they fell asleep.

* * *

Phichit woke to the smell of fresh coffee.

At first, he did not know where he was, instinctively reaching to his left to grab his phone, but his arm landed on an empty mattress. He opened his eyes with a frown, remembering where he was, and what happened the night before. He was in Chris’ bed. In Chris’ bedroom, in Chris’ house. The night before, he had kissed him, and had agreed to be his boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

A grin spread over his face, and Phichit rolled over, hiding his face in the pillow and letting out a giddy laugh.

It was unbelievable.

The curtains were still shut as Phichit looked up again, but they let in the light of the early morning. A glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was not even eight yet, but judging by the fact Chris’ mattress was cold, Phichit assumed that his boyfriend had been up for some time already.

He could hear Chris move around in the small kitchen, cabinets getting opened and closed, gentle humming along to the music coming from the radio. The blissful sounds of a morning, of the start of a new day.

Maybe, Phichit thought to himself as he slipped out of bed and adjusted the seat of Chris’ sweatpants, this was the first morning of a brand-new life.

Madame Pompadour meowed at him as Phichit entered the kitchen, rising from her seat on the kitchen chair to greet him. “Good morning, Milady,” Phichit chuckled and knelt down as she rubbed her head against his leg, scratching her behind the ear.

Chris chuckled and turned around from the stove where he was making pancakes. “She likes you.”

“I like her too,” Phichit said and rose again, joining Chris at the stove. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Chris hummed and leant in for a quick kiss before Phichit could react.

“Wait!” He shrieked and leant away from him. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“So what?” Chris asked.

“I’m gross!”

“Let’s be gross together,” Chris shrugged and leant in for a kiss again, this time not letting Phichit escape.

“You’re weird,” Phichit mumbled, but his ears were burning already, and he was sure his face was beet red.

“Only for you,” Chris grinned. “Are you hungry?” He flipped the pancakes over. “They are almost done. Coffee is on the table.”

Phichit sat down on the chair that Madame Pompadour had vacated, pouring each of them a cup of coffee, adding a splash of milk to Chris’. A moment later, Chris turned off the stove and put the pancakes on a serving plate, placing it in the middle of the table.

It was such a simple breakfast, but made by the man he loved, and therefore, the greatest of feasts.

“I hope you like it,” Chris said, taking his cup of coffee. “The last time I made pancakes was at university.”

“I’m sure they’re great,” Phichit said and stabbed one with his fork to pull it onto his plate.

It was a quiet, blissful morning, one of those that did not require in depth conversations. The radio was on, playing the news, and they both listened half-heartedly as they ate and enjoyed each other’s company. It was awfully domestic, Phichit thought during his second pancake. Did Chris always have breakfast on his own in this kitchen? Did he have breakfast at all, or was he the kind that could do with a cup of coffee and a cigarette?

There were still so many things Phichit did not know about his boyfriend, but he was determined to learn more about him. To get to know the real Chris. The person that he was at home, when no one was looking.

“Phichit?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, Phichit looked up. Chris leant closer, kissing him tenderly, as if they had not been kissing just a minute ago.

“I’m really happy you’re here,” he said, leaving Phichit utterly flustered and blushing furiously.

“I’m happy, too,” Phichit squeaked. “I… I’m sorry, I’m just so overwhelmed by all of this.”

“Believe me, so am I,” Chris said, which Phichit found hard to believe. After all, Chris appeared like the epitome of calmness to him in this moment. But then again, he had believed many things about Chris at first that had turned out to be nothing but rumours and misconceptions. “It’s been a while since I last had a boyfriend to cook for.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend to cook for,” Phichit replied. “But I guess it… just takes some time to get used to this. Right?”

“I think so, yes,” Chris agreed and took a sip from his coffee. “Shall we drive to work together in half an hour or so?”

“Sounds good,” Phichit said, already thinking of the very long, very cold shower he would have to take once he got back. “Do you have a lot of work to do today?”

Chris sighed. “I assume my mailbox is overflowing,” he said. “It’s always like this when Viktor is away. But he needs a little holiday.”

“Just like Yuuri,” Phichit added, finishing his meal, getting up to take the empty plates to the sink. “He’s going to be bedbound very soon. Resting phase.”

“It’ll be time soon, hm?” Chris got up and joined him at the sink, taking a kitchen towel to dry the dishes Phichit had washed. “What do you think it’s going to be? Boy or girl? I still don’t understand why they didn’t ask to learn the baby’s gender.”

“Yuuri said it’s because they want it to be a surprise,” Phichit said. “Especially Viktor. I have to admit that I was surprised about that, too. I assume he’s hoping for a boy. The chances for a boy to be an alpha is a lot higher.”

“You don’t know Viktor like I do,” Chris hummed as they worked in intimate togetherness. “He is not like most people that belong to the Bratva. To him, alphas, betas, and omegas are equal. When he sent me to Japan to ask for Yuuri’s hand in his stead, he told me over and over again to make sure that Yuuri agreed to this match. The last thing he wanted was to marry someone who was forced to accept. That’s the reason he stayed single for so long. Believe me, he did have a lot of offers.”

“Huh.” Phichit cleaned the last plate and wiped his hands on the kitchen towel. “Yuuri told me that it was only half of an arranged match. He chose him because he wanted to be free, and that Viktor offered him this freedom.”

“And then, they fell in love,” Chris added softly and put his arm around Phichit’s waist, pulling him closer, their noses almost touching.

“And then, they fell in love,” Phichit whispered, his eyes falling shut as Chris kissed him, gently, tenderly, with all the patience in the world.

Between their feet, Madame Pompadour rubbed her head against their legs with a soft meow.

* * *

They did not part for too long.

Back at Nikiforov Hall, Phichit ran to his apartment to take a shower and change into clean clothes, ignoring the maids that giggled behind their hands at the fact that he had spent the night elsewhere. Refreshed and in clean clothes again, he went to his office to work, leaving the door open on purpose. Every now and then, he would spot Chris in the hallway, either on his phone or talking to a staff member. Their eyes would meet, and Phichit would blush and hide behind his computer to calm down again.

He felt like a teenager.

When their lunch break came, Phichit almost ran to Chris’ office, right into his arms where a kiss awaited him, besides a good meal straight from the kitchens.

When Phichit left Chris’ office again, his lips swollen from kissing and his face beet red, he caught Yulia’s eye, who chuckled and patted his cheek in passing.

“It took you look enough,” she said in her thick, Russian accent before she walked away, leaving Phichit behind utterly flustered.

He had never been happier.

* * *

The weather became gradually worse.

By the time Phichit had finished cooking in Chris’ small kitchen, it was raining heavily, the rain so loud on the windows and the roof that they had to turn up the volume of the tv significantly to even understand a single word of what was being said. Over the course of the week, they had finished Pride and Prejudice, had watched their favourite Tom Hanks films, and had now put on The King and the Skater. It was the only valid film to watch when eating Thai food, Phichit had declared. And Chris, who knew little about either Thai cinema or Thai cuisine, had accepted it as a fact and had kissed Phichit in confirmation.

This time, Phichit’s eyes were glued to the screen as he sat on Chris’ lap, leaning against his chest with his boyfriend’s arms around him. It was warm and comfortable there, and Phichit managed to relax easily, telling him all the important details about the film that meant so much to him. It amazed him that Chris actually listened and asked questions in return – between dropping innocent kisses to Phichit’s cheeks and shoulder blades. Every single one of them sent pleasant shivers down his spine, and when he felt brave enough, he would turn his head and kiss Chris in return.

“What is the king’s secret?” Chris hummed into his ear, his arms loosely wrapped around Phichit’s belly. “He could have everything he wants. Why is he hesitating?”

“Shhh!” Phichit shifted a little in his arms as a very important scene came up. “You’ll find out soon!”

Chris chuckled, but remained silent, watching attentively as the king’s secret was finally revealed in a heartbreaking scene, the rain in the movie falling just as hard as it did right now. Phichit loved this scene, and every single time without fail, it would make him cry. The moment the tears began to roll down his cheeks, Chris reached for a tissue, dabbing his eyes for him.

“They are so in love,” Phichit breathed, eyes glued to the screen. “But they cannot be together. That’s not fair.”

“That’s not fair, no,” Chris agreed with a sigh.

By the end of the movie, they had both used up quite a few tissues, most of them crumpled up by Phichit’s hand and lying on the carpet to his feet. But it had been worth it, so very worth it, they both decided as the end credits started and they could finally turn down the volume again.

“I’m really glad I don’t have to walk home in this weather,” Phichit said as he looked out of the window, just as lighting illuminated the sky, followed by loud thunder.

“I would not let you go anyway,” Chris said and picked up their empty plates to take them to the kitchen. “Do you want to go to bed?”

“Yes, please,” Phichit said and immediately yawned at the thought of Chris’ incredibly comfortable bed in which he had spent quite a few nights now. His own sweatpants and t-shirt had a place on the chair by the bed now, and he picked them up on the way to the bathroom to brush his teeth while Chris cleaned up their mess.

Not for the first time did Phichit realise how domestic all of this was.

As if they had been together for ages already.

In fact, they had been in a relationship for barely a week now.

Chris squeezed himself into the tiny bathroom, already shirtless and in grey sweatpants. It was not the first time that Phichit saw his bare chest, but it always knocked the breath out of his lungs.

All of this was his to look at.

“The weather is really awful tonight,” Chris said as yet another thunder shook the frames of the small bathroom window. “Madame Pompadour is sleeping under the couch because of it.”

“Is she scared?” Phichit asked worriedly, putting his toothbrush back into the cup.

“She just doesn’t like the lightning,” Chris said and began to wash his face. “Is it okay for you?”

“I don’t mind thunderstorms,” Phichit said, moving aside to stand in the doorframe. “I just don’t like being woken by thunder when I’m almost asleep.”

Chris dried his face on a towel before reaching for one of the many products he kept by his sink. “I’ll sing you a lullaby.”

“Please do,” Phichit hummed and pecked Chris’ cheek before going to the bed and slipping under the covers to wait for Chris there.

He had not slept in his own bed in five days.

Not that he was complaining.

He rolled over in bed as Chris joined him in bed and turned off the lights, immediately pulling him closer to kiss him. It was their ritual, it seemed. Kissing, cuddling, falling asleep.

It was perfect.

“You smell so nice,” Chris murmured against his lips as he broke the kiss. “A new perfume?”

Phichit chuckled quietly. “The secret is called soap,” he whispered. “Specifically, your soap. I showered here this morning, remember?”

“Right,” Chris chuckled and ran his hand through Phichit’s hair. For a while, they just lay together in silence, drowning in each other’s scent and touch. Both of them knew that this was the last night before Viktor and Yuuri returned from Venice, the very last night before they had to go back to their regular schedules. Phichit would be very busy, and so would be Chris. So many things had to be prepared and taken care of. Not much time would be left for them. No longer would they be able to have movie nights and homemade dinner every single day.

But calmer times would come again. Just in a few weeks, the baby would have been born, and they could relax a little more again.

Until then, they would have to live with the memories of this amazing week.

“What are you thinking about?” Chris asked quietly.

Phichit smiled softly. “Just about how great the last few days have been,” he said. “I was not sure where any of this would take us. But I like where we are now. I feel… so good when I’m with you. I feel safe.”

It seemed that Chris had expected to hear all sorts of things, but not a confession like that. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if not sure what to say. Phichit began to wonder if he had said something wrong, if Chris interpreted any of his words the wrong way.

But Chris reached out to touch his cheek first before running his hand through his hair, just the way that always made Phichit’s heart flutter, for he knew what would come next.

“You are amazing,” Chris whispered before he kissed him, deep and sweetly, as the thunder shook the small house in its foundation walls, the rain hitting the bedroom window hard. Neither of them heard it, did not pay attention to it in the slightest as they deepened their kiss, only ever breaking apart for a second or two to breathe before finding each other’s lips again, each other’s bodies, each other’s breaths.

Had someone asked Phichit why he had acted the way he did, he would not have been able to give an answer, or even an explanation to the sudden boldness that came over him. He only knew that he wanted to feel Chris closer than before, lured in by the warmth of his body, by the scent of his breath, by the music that their bodies created as they moved together, their legs entangled, hips pressed together, creating friction and feelings Phichit would not have dared to dream of merely days ago.

But Chris moaned into his mouth, deep and lustful, and Phichit, encouraged by the way Chris held onto him, reached down to Chris’ hip.

Chris broke their kiss, breathing heavily, his green eyes shining bright in the light of the thunderstorm. “I thought we were taking it slow,” he whispered, his hand cupping Phichit’s cheek so carefully as if afraid of breaking him.

“We are,” Phichit whispered, swallowing thickly. “But I want to feel you. And I want to feel good with you.” He touched Chris’ cheek in return, hoping that his courage would not leave him again. “Will you allow me this?”

“God, yes,” Chris breathed and kissed him hard, pulling Phichit on top of him, their hips slotted together as the world outside seemed to descend into chaos.

Neither of them heard any of it.

In the solitude of his apartment, Phichit had only ever dreamed of doing something like this with another man. He had had offers, at university. None of them he had ever accepted, feeling too insignificant, too shy for any of it. If Chris had not approached him, he would have never gathered up the courage himself, Phichit was sure about that.

He could feel Chris’ hands on his body, his hardness against his own, even through the fabric of their sweatpants as they moved together, rolled their hips to create more, more of this wonderful friction, chasing the high that was building up in their bodies and searching for release. Chris’ hand was on Phichit’s lower back, guiding him, the other hand in his hair, cupping the back of his skull as they gasped into each other’s mouths.

“O-Oh my God…” Phichit breathed, whimpering as he felt himself coming closer and closer to the edge. “Chris… I…”

“Let go,” Chris gasped, and Phichit realised with a shock that his lover was moaning, moaning because of _him_. “Let go, Phichit…”

He came embarrassingly early, moaning into Chris’s shoulder as his orgasm shook his body.

Chris, he realised in stunned silence, followed him only seconds later.

The noise of the storm came back, flooding their senses, reminding them of where they were, of the realness of what they had done. It was hard to ignore anyway, for they were both gasping for air, their chests rising and falling quickly as they held onto each other for dear life.

Unwilling to let go ever again.

Chris was the first of them to find his voice again, hoarse, barely audible over the noise that the thunderstorm made.

“I think I love you.”

Phichit turned his head, watching as Chris stared at the ceiling of his bedroom in utter bewilderment about what he had said.

“I think I love you,” he said again, looking back at Phichit, licking his lips. “Phichit, I love you.”

Phichit closed his eyes and pressed their lips together for a moment, just to taste him, just to feel him in this moment that could possibly only be a dream.

But it was real, and Phichit took this moment, and locked it away in his heart.

“I love you, too,” he whispered to him before he curled up on Chris’ side.

They knew they had to get up at some point before things got dry and uncomfortable, and neither of them did really want to sleep like this.

“I think we ruined our pants,” Phichit remarked quietly.

Chris snorted, kissing his hair. “It’s alright. I’ve got plenty.”

And there was nothing more to say that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colin Firth is the only true Mr Darcy and no, I do not accept any objections.


	22. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: I know it's been a while.   
> I have been trying to focus on all my WIPs at once, but alas - that didn't work, did it. 
> 
> This chapter here is a bit shorter than the ones before - but it is important, as it sets the scene for the finale. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: guns, threatening, broken noses.

The moment Yuuri laid his eyes on Phichit, he knew that something incredibly significant had happened.

“Oh my god,” he said when he rushed to hug his friend, taking in his overall appearance. “It’s official? You and Chris?”

“How did you know?” Phichit gasped, hearing Chris cackle from the office next door.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow and reached out to touch the hickeys on Phichit’s neck that were barely hidden by the scarf he was wearing.

“Oh.”

“Indeed, _oh_ ,” Yuuri chuckled. “So, is it official?”

“I… suppose?” Phichit blushed, throwing a glance over his shoulder before taking Yuuri by the hand and leading him next door where they would not be overheard, for he knew that Yuuri would surely ask him about absolutely everything. The moment the door fell shut behind them, they burst into giggles, and barely made it to the sofa.

“You have to tell me everything,” Yuuri said the moment they sat down. “How did it happen? Did you go on a romantic date to St. Petersburg?”

Phichit shook his head. “No, we met at his place. Watching films and having dinner together.”

“Very classy,” Yuuri said. “Does not sound like Chris at all, though.”

“Many things don’t sound like Chris at all,” Phichit assured him before he proceeded to give Yuuri the full story of the week he had spent with Chris, not leaving out any of the crucial details. Yuuri had never been happier for his friend, his heart full of joy as he watched Phichit’s entire face light up every time he said Chris’ name.

That meant it had to be serious, at the very least.

“And now you are his boyfriend?”

“And now I am his boyfriend, yes,” Phichit confirmed. For a moment, he was quiet, just looking at Yuuri, as if he were letting that information sink in. Then, he squealed and hid his face in his hands. “Oh my god, I’m Chris’ boyfriend!”

Yuuri laughed and pulled Phichit into a hug. “I’m so happy for you. I told you it would work out.”

Phichit squealed into his shoulder before pulling away again, grasping Yuuri’s hands. “But enough of me now. How about you? How was Venice?”

Yuuri sighed and leant back on the sofa as he told Phichit about everything they had seen and done, including the dinner they had had with Sara and Mila.

What he left out, however, was the phone call he had had with Mari and his mother.

The mere thought of not telling Phichit, at least for now, felt so incredibly wrong that Yuuri was sure that Phichit would notice it. Yes, that somehow, Phichit would notice that he was hiding something, and that he would not let the subject go until Yuuri had told him everything.

But nothing happened.

“You have no idea what Makkachin did while you were away,” Phichit said as he went to grab them something to drink. “She went through the kitchen trash not once, not twice, but four times in a row. Every time the cook saw her, she started shrieking!”

Yuuri blinked, forcing his attention back to Phichit. “Oh, really?”

“I have no idea why she was suddenly so obsessed with that particular bin,” Phichit said, shaking his head as he returned to the sofa with tea for both of them. “Oh well. But tell me, how is the baby? Are you feeling well?”

Yuuri smiled and instinctively touched his belly where the child was active all of a sudden, as if they had been listening to the conversation and wanted to chime in.

“We are both well,” he said and accepted the tea from his friend. “Viktor bought so many baby clothes in Venice. Designer clothes, obviously.” He rolled his eyes. “A onesie for almost 800 euros. A onesie the baby will grow out of within a month!”

Phichit laughed. “That sounds very much like him. But I bet he bought you lots of new clothes as well.”

Yuuri sighed and placed his hand on Phichit’s. “My wardrobe is bursting at the seams.”

Phichit’s eyes began to shine. “That means—”

“Yes,” Yuuri nodded and laced their fingers together as if in a holy ceremony. “Phichit Chulanont – will you clear out my wardrobe with me?”

Phichit sighed happily. “It would be an honour.”

Going through Yuuri’s clothes eventually took an entire day. Over the course of almost three years, Viktor had bought his mate so many clothes that Yuuri had lost the overview a long time ago. He sat on the sofa in the walk-in closet and watched as Phichit held out pieces to him that he had long forgotten and therefore almost never worn, from evening gowns over dance outfits to the jeans he had brought with him from Hasetsu. Of course, he would not throw everything out, and especially wanted to keep the ones that Viktor had bought him for special occasions.

“Is that your nagajuban?” Phichit asked as he pulled out a box with Japanese writing on it. “The one from your wedding night?”

Yuuri blushed. “Yes,” he said. “We must keep it.”

“I know,” Phichit said and set the box carefully aside. “Wow, you have been married for almost three years now. Can you believe that?”

“Not really,” Yuuri admitted and picked up a sweater he had brought with him form Japan. Holding it against his nose, he realised it still smelled like home. He would definitely keep that one. “I still sometimes wonder when I’ll wake up in my room in Hasetsu and hear my uncle’s men talk outside my door.”

“What were they doing outside your door?” Phichit asked and turned around. “Protection?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said and picked up a pair of jeans that he had not worn in months and probably would never wear again. His hips were too wide now, and he would never regain his old figure. Not that he saw that as an issue – not anymore, at least.

“My mother wanted them to stand outside my and Mari’s door at night,” he told Phichit and threw the jeans on the pile with the clothes they would donate. “I never liked them. My uncle’s men were not like Viktor’s.”

“Did you ever feel unsafe around them?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri shrugged. “Sometimes, I guess. I was glad to be away from them when I came here, and Viktor made it clear to me that I was the one in charge here and that the guards had to do what I said. Although I never really ordered them around, I think.”

“They are definitely loyal,” Phichit agreed and held up a knitted dress, realising that it was the one he had brought to Yuuri the first time the omega had asked him to find him something to wear. “I never liked my father’s men. They are the kind of people who think they are god because they belong to the mafia, even if they’re not sworn brothers.”

“I know what you mean,” Yuuri said with a sigh and thought back to a few particular members of his uncle’s branch of the Yakuza. “But here, it’s different. Viktor does not tolerate such people, at least not near me. And such people he despises, too.”

“As he should,” Phichit said. “They are rats.” He held up a grey gown with silver flowers on the skirt. “That’s a nice one. Do you want to keep it?”

“Heavens, no,” Yuuri said and shook his head. “I wore this one when I first met the Leroys. JJ was so drunk that he vomited all over our marble floor. The stink was in that dining hall for days.”

“Then it shall be definitely donated,” Phichit decided and threw the gown on the pile to his right. “What is next?”

It was already dark outside when they had finally cleared out the wardrobe, servants carrying away several large boxes of clothes to be donated. Yuuri wondered how many of the ballgowns he had thrown out would actually find their way into charity shops, but it felt good to make space for the new things Viktor had bought him – even if he had a feeling that he would have to find a way to stop Viktor from buying him twenty new gowns every single month.

Especially now, with a little one on the way.

He said goodbye to Phichit, who had a dinner reservation in the village with Chris, and it made Yuuri immensely happy to see his friend like this. His cheeks had a healthy glow, just like his eyes, and whenever he spoke of Chris, they would begin to sparkle.

Phichit deserved all the happiness.

Even if the thought of him still hurt Yuuri deep in his chest, the uncertainty about Phichit’s loyalty causing him deep distress.

But he swallowed it for now.

He had to.

He got changed into something nicer for dinner, meeting Viktor at the table by the large windows. The cook had made them something simple but delicious, a vegetable soup with bread and some salmon as the main dish.

Viktor seemed to have had a stressful day – Yuuri noticed it right away as he sat down and was greeted by him with a kiss to the temple. He had shadows under his eyes, meaning that he had probably not had enough water over the day, or just a minute of rest.

“Bad news?” Yuuri asked him and reached across the table for his hand.

Viktor shook his head. “No, no, just… just a lot of missed work,” he said and gave Yuuri’s hand a brief squeeze. “Did you have a nice day?”

Yuuri nodded and told him about his day with Phichit spent in the wardrobe to clear out the clothes he no longer needed, but he soon realised that Viktor was not really listening. Physically, he might have been sitting on the chair opposite to Yuuri’s. But mentally, he was far away, and Yuuri could only guess where.

And so, he fell quiet, and focused on his meal.

In such times, he knew, it was best to leave Viktor alone.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked up from his meal, finding his husband looking out of the window, right into the garden of the estate. This is why they had chosen this corner for a dining area, because of the view. Usually, they could enjoy the sunset here, and talk about the events of the day over a nice dinner.

“I think you should give birth in our apartment in St. Petersburg,” Viktor said and finally turned his head to look at him.

Yuuri blinked.

“It is safer,” Viktor added. “And closer to a hospital.”

Where that was coming from all of a sudden Yuuri could not tell, but he was sure that there was something Viktor was not telling him. However, there was an authority in his voice that told Yuuri that this was most likely not up for debate.

“Yes, Viktor,” Yuuri murmured and picked up his fork again. “When will we leave?”

“Tomorrow,” Viktor said. “You, that is. I will wrap up my work here and then join you in St. Petersburg once I am done.”

“You’re sending me there alone?” Yuuri stared at him with wide eyes.

“Of course not,” Viktor replied and then reached across the table to take Yuuri’s hand. “Phichit will be at your side. And I won’t take long to follow you.”

Yuuri was aware that there were definitely things that Viktor was not telling him, things that he wanted to know but if they started talking about them now, Yuuri was sure it would only end in an argument.

Especially with Viktor being in such a strange mood.

“Fine,” Yuuri murmured. “But I want you to know that I don’t like this.”

“I know,” Viktor sighed and squeezed his hand. “But it is for the best.”

Yuuri was not sure if he agreed.

They went to bed early that night, and Yuuri curled up in Viktor’s arms as usual, but it was clear that neither of them would get much sleep that night. Too many things were left unsaid between them, things that Yuuri could not even imagine. Whatever they were, they were keeping them awake, and when morning came, Yuuri refused to return Viktor’s morning kiss.

Viktor sighed.

“Please don’t hate me,” he murmured. “I could not bear the thought of you hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Yuuri murmured into his pillow.

After that, Viktor left, and Yuuri rolled onto his back, his hands on his belly as the child started moving.

* * *

In his study, Viktor watched as the car drove away, carrying the most precious of goods. He always felt uneasy whenever Yuuri went somewhere without him – not because he did not trust their drivers or Yuuri’s guards. It was only natural, he had been told, to want to be near one’s mate, especially when they were pregnant. And with Yuuri so close to giving birth, being separated from him for even a day or two was torture.

He had parted from him in the entrance hall, had held him and kissed him, which Yuuri had fortunately returned. Yuuri did not hate him, even if he did not understand why Viktor was sending him away to St. Petersburg. Yuuri was no fool, and had surely not bought his argument of the city being safer. It was a simple thing for him to get the best doctors and midwives, even out here.

Fortunately, Yuuri knew him well enough to not question him.

Even though he would owe him many, many explanations after what he was about to do.

The knock on the door pulled Viktor out of his thoughts, and he turned around. “Come in.”

The door opened and Phichit came in. Today was his day off, and hence, he had not left with Yuuri but would join him in the evening.

Enough time for Viktor.

“You wanted to see me?” Phichit asked as he came in, closing the door behind himself.

“Yes,” Viktor said and put his hands into his pockets as he walked back to his desk. “Do sit down. Forgive me for calling you here on your day off, but it is a rather urgent matter that concerns my mate.”

“Does it have to do with the sudden change of plans?” Phichit asks and sits down on the chair before the Pakhan’s desk. “He did not seem very happy about going to St. Petersburg when I saw him this morning.”

“Partly, yes,” Viktor said and opened the top drawer of his desk, pulling out the gun he always kept there, and pointed it at Phichit. “And now you will tell me everything you know about your father’s letters to Katsuki.”

In an instant, Phichit froze on the chair before him.

“S-Sir,” he breathed, his eyes wide as his gaze flickered from the gun up to Viktor. “I don’t know what you are talking—”

Viktor cocked the gun at him. “I would think of it very carefully, if I were you,” he said. “Tell me everything you know about the letters that your father sent to Yuuri’s uncle.”

“I don’t know what—”

“Tell me every detail of your father’s plan. The who, the what, the when, the where, the why.”

“I swear that I don’t know what you are talking about!” Phichit cried out, tears streaming down his face, but Viktor had seen liars just like that before. They screamed and shouted, they wept, they claimed innocence, and yet, stabbed him right in the back.

“Your father is plotting something against the Katsukis and against us, and I am damn sure that he is targeting my mate!” Viktor barked and grabbed him by the throat, pressing the gun against Phichit’s head. “And you better give me a damn good reason to not pull the fucking trigger and shoot your brains out.”

“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Phichit screamed as he fought against Viktor’s grip on his throat and neck. “MY FATHER DOES NOT EVEN TALK TO ME!”

“You have three seconds to speak before I shoot,” Viktor hissed into his ear. “Three—”

“I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!”

“Two—”

“THAT IS THE TRUTH—”

The bullet went right through the open window behind Viktor as he shot blindly and let go of Phichit at the same time. The beta gasped for air and grabbed his throat as he fell back onto the chair, shaking from head to toe.

Viktor dropped the gun onto his desk and leant against it with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “But I had to.”

He did not hear Phichit’s reply.

The next second, the door was kicked open by Chris, who only had to take one look at Viktor, then at his upset and shaking boyfriend, then at the gun, to understand what was going on. He walked past Phichit to stand right in front of Viktor, not hesitating for even a second as he punched him in the face, so incredibly hard that Viktor felt his nose crack, but he did not pull away.

Chris grabbed him by the collar. “If you ever do this again, I will not hesitate to fucking kill you.”

Then, he let go, turning around to comfort Phichit, pulling him into his arms.

Viktor grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk and held it up to his throbbing nose. It was not the first time someone had broken his nose, but the first time a friend was responsible for it – and that made it a thousand times clearer why he deserved it this time.

His private surgeon would have a field day with this one, he thought.

At least Yuuri had not been around to hear or witness any of this.

“V-Viktor had a reason, Chris,” he heard Phichit say, his voice still shaking but otherwise clear. “My father has been… has been messing with the Katsukis recently and he feared that I might be only around Yuuri to harm him.”

“Bullshit,” Chris hissed and glared at Viktor. “He would never—”

“But it makes sense, Chris,” Phichit interrupted him, “and you know it. However, my father ignores me because I’m a beta, and I doubt he even remembers that I work here.” He swallowed thickly and looked up at Viktor. “I would never harm Yuuri. He’s my friend and I love him. I don’t care what problems my father has with you or with the Katsukis.”

“I believe you,” Viktor said with a small nod. “And I hope you can tell Yuuri the same.”

Phichit’s eyes widened. “He thought I was a spy?”

“He considered the possibility,” Viktor replied, “but he hated himself for it. I will tell him that you are innocent, and you can tell him, too. But please,” he hissed as he touched his nose a little too firmly, “do not tell him about all of this.”

Chris huffed. “And what will you tell him about your nose? That you walked against a glass door?”

“You have to admit that is not very unlikely.”

“Touché.” Chris pulled Phichit up with him, keeping an arm around him. “Go see your surgeon to get this mess fixed, Viktor, and then go to St. Petersburg. We’ll follow.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “You will?”

Chris gave him a long, serious look. “If you think you have to go through having a child and protecting your mate from a madman on your own, then you are mistaken.”

Viktor smiled at that, but only a little, as the mere movement of muscles in his face reminded him of the injury. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get me wrong, though,” Chris said dryly. “I have zero regrets about your nose.”

* * *

The Pakhan’s private surgeon did indeed have a field day with the fixing of his nose.

There was not much to do, for Chris had apparently a talent for producing a clean fracture that could be mended with tape. What annoyed Viktor the most, however, were the bruises forming left and right that made him look like a delinquent that had not had much sleep recently. This was not how he wanted to look like when going to Yuuri, but what could one do.

The drive to St. Petersburg was quiet, also because he was alone in the car with his driver. Chris and Phichit would follow later, after Phichit had calmed down. Of course, Viktor felt regret over what he had done, but in his position, such drastic measures were – unfortunately – necessary. At least, he could now be sure that Phichit was on their side and no harm to Yuuri.

And he could reassure Yuuri that there was nothing to worry about.

Viktor pulled out his phone and looked at his wallpaper, a picture of Yuuri, standing on the deck of the yacht during their honeymoon. He looked gorgeous in his bathing suit, smiling shyly into the camera.

It was before they had confessed their love for each other. Before Yuuri had found his strength, and his voice.

Yuuri had come so far in the recent months, had made Viktor immensely proud.

He would be a fool, Viktor thought, to let anyone take that away from him.

He tapped the phone icon and then Yuuri’s name, waiting for three painfully long seconds until his mate finally picked up.

“Hello?”

“I love you,” Viktor said, running a hand through his hair. “And I am on my way to St. Petersburg, where I will tell you over and over again how much I love you.”

For a moment, the line was quiet.

“What did you do, Viktor?”

Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I lost view of what matters,” he said with a sigh. “And what matters is you. Only you, my love. You and our child. It is not the Bratva, not anything related to it, that matters in this chaos that is our life. The Bratva _is_ the very chaos, Yuuri.” He swallowed thickly, afraid of his own thoughts, of the realisations he was now beginning to understand. “It is eating us up.”

“I know,” Yuuri said, and Viktor’s heart ached at the pain he could hear in his mate’s voice. “But what can we do?”

“I don’t know,” Viktor sighed. “I don’t know, and it’s awful.”

“But you do not have to go through this alone, Viktor,” Yuuri said, and his voice was so full of understanding that Viktor was sure he would have begun to cry if Yuuri were here with him. “You have me. And if we are honest with each other, we can find a way. No matter what it is.”

Viktor swallowed thickly. “I love you, Yuuri.”

“I love you, Viktor,” Yuuri replied softly.

“But you must promise me something, Yuuri,” Viktor sighed. “Just… believe me one final lie, yes?”

Yuuri was quiet for a moment. “And what is it?”

“I broke my nose today by walking against a glass door.”

“Oh, Viktor.” Yuuri sighed heavily. “Did you see your surgeon, at least?”

“I did. But I look like I overdid it with blue and yellow makeup.”

“I love you regardless,” Yuuri said softly. “I have to go now. My mother is calling on Skype.”

“Tell her I’ve said hi.”

“I will. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Viktor hung up and sighed heavily, but his heart felt lighter in an instant.

It was early in the evening when he finally arrived at their apartment in St. Petersburg, and Viktor could already see that the lights of the living room were switched on. That alone made him take a deep breath and approach the elevator with a certain spring in his step. It was quite useful to have an elevator that fast, and when he unlocked the door to the apartment, he could already hear the television and the sounds of Yuuri’s favourite show. He shut the door behind himself and took off his jacket on the way to the living room, sitting down beside his mate and pulling him in for a tender kiss.

“How is our little one?” He asked softly, placing a hand on Yuuri’s belly.

Yuuri kissed him back. “Happy, now that Daddy is here. You look awful, by the way.”

“Yuuuuri.” Viktor sighed dramatically. “I promise it shall never happen again.”

“Do not make promises you cannot keep,” Yuuri said and curled up at his side. “I do not even want to know how that happened.”

“Quite right,” Viktor said, “but thanks to this, I can now tell you that you do not have to worry about a single thing when it comes to Phichit.”

In an instant, Yuuri sat up, looking at him with wide eyes. “Are you certain?”

“As certain as one could possibly be,” Viktor assured him. “He and Chris will be here with us tomorrow. And then we’ll be able to talk through this mess. And perhaps find a solution.”

Yuuri intertwined their fingers on top of his belly and rested his head on Viktor’s shoulder. “There is a solution for tonight, however,” he said quietly, “and that is us being together. We do not need more.”

Viktor agreed wholeheartedly.

* * *

Chris came to see Viktor the next morning.

Viktor made them both a cup of coffee, a cheap brand that only the store around the corner seemed to sell, but it was the one Viktor had always liked best. Naturally, Chris grimaced at the taste, being the one who always imported the most expensive coffee known to man, but he accepted it without question and moved to the dining table with Viktor.

Yuuri was still asleep, and so was Phichit, which gave them the opportunity to finally sit down and talk.

Viktor had the feeling it was long overdue.

But for a while, they just sat there and drank their coffee, watching the sun rise over St. Petersburg and bathing it in a warm, golden light.

“How’s the nose?” Chris asked.

“Hurts like a bitch.”

“Good. You deserve it.”

“Indeed.”

They sighed simultaneously and looked at each other.

“Seriously, Viktor,” Chris said. “You could have handled this better. There was no need to hold a gun to his head.”

“Maybe not, but it was the fastest and the most effective method. And you know it.”

“I do,” Chris muttered. “And I know that I am biased because Phichit is my boyfriend.”

“We are all biased when it comes to those we love, I guess,” Viktor hummed. “We have not spoken about it yet. What is it like? Being with Phichit. He is a wonderful match.”

“He really is,” Chris said and smiled into his coffee, blushing properly, even. Viktor could not remember when he had last seen his best friend like this – but if there was someone who deserved love, then it was Chris. “He is wonderful. A lot of fun.”

“Oh, I can imagine that,” Viktor chuckled and shot him a knowing glance.

Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about that,” he said. “If you must know, we haven’t even had sex yet.”

“No?”

“No. We fooled around, and that was that. And I think it is good that way.” Chris took another sip from his coffee before setting it down. “He means a lot to me. So if you ever threaten him with a gun or hurt him in any way again, I will end you, Viktor.”

“I know.” Viktor set his cup down as well and clasped his hands on the table. He had never doubted Chris in any aspect, and he certainly would not start doing so now.

It was crazy, he thought, what kind of history they had. Growing up together, going to school together, even attending university together. Living with him in a tiny apartment had been the best time in Viktor’s life – and then, his father had died, and he had become the Pakhan. And Chris, the ever-loyal friend, had followed him.

The life they had begun to lead then had turned out to be a very lonely one. Both of them had searched for love for a long time, and had believed to never find it.

And then, a night in Shanghai had changed Viktor’s life.

And with Yuuri, Phichit had come.

“This is crazy,” Chris sighed.

Indeed, Victor thought, and got up to pour them each another cup.

“You need better coffee,” Chris remarked.

“Shut up,” Viktor muttered and pushed the refilled cup across the table before he sat down again. “I know for a fact that Phichit does not even like your expensive coffee that much.”

“He has to tell me that himself,” Chris said and took a sip. “And Yuuri? Does he drink this ghastly stuff?”

“No,” Viktor smiled, “he prefers green tea. I have come to like it, too.”

Chris raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You used to never try anything new. Yuuri has changed you a lot.”

In the past, Viktor would have hated to hear such a thing. But now, it was the greatest compliment that anyone could ever make. For yes, Yuuri had definitely changed him for the better, had brought the light into his life and had guided him, had made him a better person.

“But I can say the same about you,” he said to his best friend. “Since you started dating Phichit, you have become a lot calmer. You seem content.”

“It is because I am,” Chris said without hesitation. “Who would have thought that we would come to such a point in our lives, Viktor?”

“It is crazy,” Viktor said again, for there was truly no better word for their current situation. “And now there is the father of your boyfriend, threatening the family of my mate.”

“The letters,” Chris nodded. “Do you know already what the letters say?”

“Not yet, but Mari is on it,” Viktor said and held his cup a little tighter. “Also… this whole tragedy with Chulanont and Yuuri’s aunt…”

“Do you think it has something to do with that?”

“It might be a possibility,” Viktor said. “Yuuri said that his mother refuses to speak about it. She is scared.”

Chris sighed and leant back on his chair, rubbing his eyes.

Someone refusing to talk about an issue was never a good sign. Especially not within the family. They both knew it well – the Giacomettis were known for sweeping certain issues under the rug, just because they were uncomfortable to address. It was one of the reasons why Chris was no longer close with them, and would most likely never be.

That, and the fact his mother had only been his father’s mistress, and he was not an actual heir.

“But no matter what it is,” Viktor murmured, “I have enough.”

Chris sighed. “We all have enough, Viktor.”

“You don’t understand,” Viktor said and met his friend’s gaze. “I have a family now. A mate whom I love and who loves me in return, and a child on the way that will be born any minute. This is not the kind of life I want for them. Not the kind of life I ever wanted for myself. Hell, Christophe, don’t tell me that you are not feeling it, too?!”

His voice had become louder and louder with every word, the emotions running high now, as he finally dared to say out loud what he had always been thinking, and what been on his mind since the day he had fallen in love with Yuuri. A thought that had been with him ever since, and that would not disappear, that much he knew.

“What are you trying to say, Viktor?” Chris asked him quietly.

Viktor took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. The silence between them was almost deafening, the only sound coming from the clock on the kitchen wall. An old thing, ticking slowly, almost like a bad omen.

“You heard me,” Viktor murmured and looked up at Chris, in whose eyes realisation slowly settled in. “I want out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have been well! <3


	23. Resurgam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok.  
> This is it. The final chapter.
> 
> I do not have much left to say, except that I am so overwhelmed these days that I honestly don't know if this chapter will make sense. If there are plot holes etc., I am apologising for them right here, right now.   
> As you might know, I struggled a lot with finishing this fic. I had all of my ideas written down, I just needed to write the chapter, but this year was not easy for me, and I am sure it was not easy for you, either. I am constantly writing stuff, either for university or for pleasure. Recently, it has become more university stuff.   
> But I wanted to finish this story, which has brought me so much joy. 
> 
> Now it's here.

“Mr Carraway?”

The nurse stepped out of the room and into the dimly lit hallway, her gaze searching for the man in question. She finally found him near the vending machine, watched him for a moment as he threw the coins in and they fell right through, making the already very nervous man curse under his breath. The nurse smiled softly and approached him, master key in hand.

“It does that sometimes,” she told him and swiftly unlocked the machine, opening it to reveal its insides before giving it a good kick. Then, she picked the drink the man had selected, and passed it to him before closing the machine again. “A little treat,” she said with a wink.

Mr Carraway thanked her quietly and opened the bottle, taking a few large gulps, as if he had been stranded in the desert. Only then he was able to speak, his gaze flickering at the door through which she had come. “Is everything alright?”

The nurse nodded. “Yes, Mr Carraway. Your mate is doing well. It will take a little longer than we expected, but there is no cause for concern. He sent me out here to tell you that, saying that you would worry.”

Mr Carraway laughed softly and ran a hand through his hair that was of the most extraordinary colour, an incredibly light blonde that makes it look as if it were silver. “My darling always worries more about me than about himself,” he said. “He always has. Even when we moved here, he was far more concerned about how I would take it than whether he would like it.”

He sighed, suddenly appearing deeply lost in his thoughts.

The nurse could only imagine what was going through his head in that moment. But she knew how to handle alphas that were about to become a father for the very first time. It was difficult for them to not be allowed in the delivery room, but it was for the best. Oh, they had tried, but the vast majority of alphas fought both doctors and midwives when their mate was in pain, not letting them anywhere near them.

“Why don’t you wait in the waiting room, Mr Carraway?” The nurse suggested. “Your friend is there as well. The nice beta? And I must ask you that because my colleagues won’t leave me alone: is he single?”

Mr Carraway chuckled. “No, he is happily taken by my mate’s best friend,” he said. “He’s probably looking for me already…”

The nurse patted his arm. “Go and sit down and have a chat with him. I promise we will get you right away once your little one is here.”

Mr Carraway bit his lower lip, but he nodded, and almost obediently followed the nurse to the waiting room on the other end of the hallway. Inside was his friend, watching the English-speaking news with mild interest.

“There you are, mon ami,” he said and smiled at the nurse, who blushed furiously. “Thank you for bringing him back, ma belle.”

“You really shouldn’t flirt with an old woman,” the nurse laughed and shoved Mr Carraway into his friend’s direction. “I will go and check on your mate now. I’m sure the baby will be here before morning comes.”

Mr Carraway nodded nervously. “Could… could you tell him that I love him?”

The nurse smiled knowingly. “Of course, Mr Carraway.”

Then, she left them alone, the sound of the television merely background noise for the men as they waited.

For down the hall, in the delivery room, a miracle was happening.

* * *

**_Three weeks earlier_ **

It felt strange, Phichit thought, to lie next to Chris, with both of them being unable to sleep.

The sun was already rising outside this ridiculously luxurious apartment in the heart of St. Petersburg. The Pakhan’s apartment was just two floors above theirs, and probably even bigger, and even more sumptuous. Phichit was sure he would never get used to it. The shower here had a tv.

IN the shower.

Who the hell would want to watch tv in the shower?

He would have asked Chris, but after the incident of the previous day, they had not spoken that much. Even the ride to St. Petersburg had been quiet, but they had never let go of each other. Always holding each other’s hand, exchanging a word or two only every now and then. This was a good sign, his mother had always said, to be able to be in silence with someone that you liked. If the silence didn’t feel awkward.

And yet, lying in bed next to him right now felt very much awkward.

Neither of them had slept much, and Phichit even suspected that Chris had not slept at all. Before going to bed, he had received a text from Viktor, who asked him to see him early the next morning.

The text had not said more.

Their hands were touching on top of the sheets, their fingers intertwined as they both accepted the fact that this night had been sleepless, and that they could as well get up and face this uncertain day.

“I’m feeling nauseous,” Phichit whispered.

Chris turned his head. “Are you okay?”

Phichit shrugged lightly, glancing at his boyfriend. “I should probably eat something soon.”

“Right,” Chris agreed softly.

Neither of them had eaten anything last night.

“Do you think he told him?” Phichit asked quietly. “Yuuri. Do you think he knows?”

Chris shook his head lightly. “I doubt that he will believe any story that Viktor tells him about his broken nose. But he will not ask him further. He knows to draw a line between himself and the business.”

Phichit nodded and closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to the day before. Back to the expression on Viktor’s face as he had pointed the gun at him.

Viktor would have killed him if he had been a spy.

Without hesitation.

“He loves him,” he said quietly.

“They love each other,” Chris said. “Which is hard enough for the most of us. But for them, it must be torture in a world like this.”

Phichit rolled over to his side and shuffled closer to Chris, resting his head on the other man’s chest.

“Viktor asked me about letters that my father sent to Yuuri’s uncle,” he murmured. “I wonder what they say.”

“Would it help to ask your mother?” Chris asked and began to run his fingers through Phichit’s thick, dark hair, the gesture alone incredibly soothing.

“Not really,” Phichit sighed. “She’s just as unimportant to him as I am. She was always excluded from the business.”

“And your siblings?”

“I don’t trust them. At least not those that my father favours.”

“Hmm. Understandable.” Chris kissed the top of Phichit’s hair. “I’m glad my family ignores me.”

“Completely?”

“Well, they haven’t called since Christmas seven years ago,” Chris shrugged. “Or was it eight? I honestly don’t care.”

It was a fate that happened far too often in their world, but Phichit felt the urge to hold his boyfriend closer nonetheless. No one deserved such shitty families.

And yet, here they were.

“Those letters,” Phichit began quietly, “those letters that Victor mentioned… they really come from my father?”

“It seems so,” Chris said. “And you don’t have any idea what they might say?”

“No,” Phichit sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I wish I knew. My father is a choleric man, he’s had issues with every person under the sun. Perhaps he sometimes spoke about the Katsukis, but if he did, then I don’t remember.”

Chris kissed him on the lips, shutting him up. “It’s not your job to remember,” he said. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Then, a phone buzzed, followed by the alarm Chris had said.

“Try to sleep a bit,” he said before rolling over to turn off the alarm.

Phichit nodded and rolled onto his back, watching as his boyfriend got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for his meeting with Victor.

It was six in the morning only, but Phichit felt as if the late morning had already come.

Chris came back once more, leaning down to kiss him, and this time, the kiss lasted much longer, was filled with so much more. With love, with affection, with desire, but also with uncertainty.

“Sleep,” Chris whispered.

“I’ll try,” Phichit whispered back.

The door was shut quietly as Chris left, and Phichit rolled onto his side again to bury his face in Chris’ pillow that still had his scent, taking a deep breath.

It was around eight when he finally got out of bed and into the shower, allowing the hot water to rain down on him for almost half an hour before he could convince himself to get out and get dressed. Chris was not back yet, and according to his phone, Yuuri was still asleep, so he took the time to make himself breakfast – just a bowl of cereal – and curl up in front of the tv in only his fluffy dressing gown. Well, in Chris’ dressing down. It was too big for him, but Phichit pushed the sleeves up to have his hands free as he began to eat and watched an old American sitcom.

Soon enough, however, his thoughts drifted off, drifted back to the letters that his father kept sending to the Katsukis, with a content that upset them incredibly.

Thinking back, he only knew what everyone knew. His father had killed Yuuri’s aunt, but he had never been told why. His mother never spoke of it, and he doubted that his brothers and sisters knew anything. It all lay in the past, had happened before he and Yuuri had even been born. No one ever spoke of it, no one ever dared to call out the Chulanonts, no one ever dared to remember.

Except…

Phichit quickly put his bowl aside and reached for his phone, dialling the number he had remembered a long time ago for entirely different reasons.

A few seconds later, his call was answered.

“Seung-gil,” he said, not caring that he had probably disturbed the Lee’s youngest son in a very bad moment. “Remember when I gave you an alibi that night in Bangkok? I need you to return that favour, since you always know everyone and everything.”

The other end of the line was quiet for a long moment. “What do you need?”

Phichit threw a glance over his shoulder, checking if he was still alone.

“Tell me everything you know about Katsuki Hanako.”

* * *

Yuuri was absentmindedly drawing circles on his belly, watching the morning news as his phone rang. Reaching for it, he frowned as he saw Mari’s name, but answered right away.

“Mari?”

“I’ll send you something,” she said, skipping the greeting entirely. “A photo. Look at it, and delete it immediately.”

“What?” Yuuri sat up as quickly as his stomach allowed. “What is it?”

“Look at it, Yuuri, then call me again.”

She hung up, and Yuuri stared at his phone until it buzzed.

With shaking hands, he tapped the picture.

It was a photograph of a piece of paper, one of the good sort, probably heavy and meant for special occasions only.

Written on it was a message, and as Yuuri skimmed it, he found it not particularly special, just something like a thank you note for previous services and suggestions for further collaboration.

What struck him, however, was the postscript.

_PS: Do not forget, brother, what you owe me still, and what I will soon collect. Ω_

As soon as his finger let go of the picture, it disappeared, gone forever, one of the features of the app Mari had used to send him this.

But Yuuri had seen enough.

He immediately called her back. “Mari, what is this?”

“I broke into our uncle’s study just now,” she said. “Because he received another letter. This one. Did you see what’s on the bottom?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said and turned off the tv. “Mari, what is that symbol?”

“It means ‘omega’.”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

“I also found the other letters,” Mari said, not waiting for him to reply. “They all contain the symbol. Always in the postscript.”

“But what do we owe the Chulanonts?” Yuuri asked, panic rising inside him.

“Yuuri,” Mari said warningly. “Yuuri, take deep breaths. Calm down. You are safe right now, do you hear me? Breathe evenly.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly and did as he was told, his hand on his belly as the child moved, as if upset that he was suddenly about to panic. Mari was right, he had to calm down, not just for his own sake, but also for the child.

“Listen,” Mari said then, and it sounded as if she were in a closet or at least in a very small room. Perhaps the toilet. “I tried to speak to our mother, but she still won’t tell me. I showed her the picture, and all she was able to say was ‘It doesn’t matter anymore, there is nothing to collect here’. But with the symbol at the end, it can only mean that he means an omega, but here isn’t one, not since you left.”

“Not since I left,” Yuuri whispered. “But… why would he want me, Mari? Why now? If he wants me, why would he wait until I’m married and having a baby?”

“I don’t know, Yuuri, but you have to be careful,” Mari said emphatically. “Stay with Victor at all times, do you hear me? Do you trust your bodyguards?”

“Yes,” Yuuri said without hesitation, thinking of Otabek. “I trust them with my life.”

“Keep them close,” Mari said. “I’ll try to get our mother to talk. She is traumatised, but she has to tell us.”

Then, there was noise coming from the other end of the line.

“I have to go,” Mari said quickly. “Yuuri, do as I say. Go to Victor, stay with him, tell him what we know.”

“Mari-“

But she had hung up before Yuuri could finish his sentence.

Inside his stomach, the child kicked, as if trying to wake him from the shock.

In an instant, Yuuri was up, putting on his slippers and his dressing gown as he rushed out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the living room of their apartment, not caring about the guards that had to step aside very quickly, not caring about the fact that Victor was still in a discussion with Chris. Now, he was even on the phone, speaking with someone in fast Russian as Yuuri entered, Victor’s back to the door.

“—of utter importance, Yura, we do this now and fix it or we never do it, and I know that you are on my side here. Otabek will know what to do. Talk to him.”

“Victor,” Chris said as he saw Yuuri.

Yuuri didn’t wait, closing the distance between himself and his husband, grabbing Victor’s arm and tugging on it.

Victor’s eyes widened. “I’ll call you back,” he said to his brother and hung up. “Yuuri?”

“Victor,” Yuuri breathed. “Victor, Mari sent me a picture of one of the letters.”

Victor stared at him.

Chris immediately got up and closed the door, making sure that no one would disturb them.

“Yuuri, my love,” Victor said and took Yuuri by the hands, leading him to the sofa. “Yuuri, show me the picture.”

“I can’t,” Yuuri said and hiccuped. “She sent it on this app, and when you let go of the picture it deletes itself.”

“Okay,” Victor said and squeezed Yuuri’s hands soothingly. “Okay, so you saw the letter. What did it say?”

Yuuri closed his eyes in an attempt to remember it as clearly as possible. “At first, it seemed like normal correspondence, but there was a postscript. It said something like ‘Don’t forget what you owe me’, followed by a sign that—” He swallowed thickly.

“Yes, Yuuri?”

“It means omega.”

It was deadly silent in the room.

Neither Victor nor Yuuri spoke, the latter trying once more to stay as calm as possible for the sake of his baby, who had begun to kick wildly again, upset about the sudden change of emotions. Victor kept holding Yuuri’s hand, but averted his gaze, as if he were thinking very hard.

For a moment, Yuuri was sure his husband would not believe him.

That he would cast his words aside and tell him that he was imagining things, that none of this was actually happening, that he should just lie back and relax and think of the happy months to come. Yes, that was expected of him as an omega, of him as the mate of a powerful man like the Pakhan.

And the longer Victor did not speak, the more certain Yuuri felt about this.

But then, Chris broke the silence, holding out his phone to Yuuri.

“Was it this symbol?” He asked.

Yuuri looked at the screen, at the symbol that had burnt itself into his memory already.

He nodded.

Chris put his phone aside and crossed his arms over his chest, absentmindedly rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger.

“Mari is sure that what my uncle owes Chulanont is an omega,” Yuuri said quietly, tugging on Victor’s hand to get his attention. “She said she tried to speak to my mother, but she refused to talk about it and said that there was nothing left to collect there. There is not, because the only omega besides my mother and my aunt was me, and I am here now.”

Victor nodded to show that he heard him, but he kept his gaze averted, as if he were not daring to look his mate in the eye. “Exactly, you are here now,” he murmured. “So there is no way he can mean you. Why would he wait for you to first get married, claimed, and impregnated?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri whispered. “But I’m scared, Victor.”

That seemed to finally shake Victor awake, away from his thoughts, and he finally, finally looked at Yuuri again, who wanted nothing more than to be safe in Victor’s arms.

Nothing more than for this nightmare to be just a dream.

“Oh, Yuuri,” Victor sighed and pulled him into his arms as best as he could with Yuuri’s current state, holding him close and nuzzling his hair the way he always did when he wanted to soothe him. “Yuuri, nothing will happen to you. You are safe. We are safe. We will always be safe. I am working on it.”

Yuuri had no idea what that meant, but he had heard the strange undertone in Victor’s voice, the very same that had caused them to leave home and come here, to St. Petersburg. He did not like this particular tone, for it could never mean something good. A concerned, thinking Victor was not a happy Victor, that much Yuuri had learnt soon enough in their marriage.

The fact that he was ‘working on it’ meant even more.

It meant that there was something to work on in the first place.

That something, something very important in their lives, was changing, and not for the better.

They stayed like this for a long time, long enough for Chris to leave the room to give them privacy and the opportunity to speak about things, but no words came over their lips for at least ten minutes. To rest in Victor’s arms was good, it was soothing, it was reassuring and told Yuuri that he was safe. Yes, in Victor’s embrace, he would always be safe, may the world be damned. Victor would kill for him, would die for him, would throw himself in front of a train for him. Victor was his past, his present, his future, and Yuuri was Victor’s in return. They both knew it, they both needed it, they both wanted it that way.

In this life, and in the next.

“I’ve been speaking to several people this morning,” Victor said eventually, his voice gentle and full of the kindness that he naturally possessed. “About the future.”

Yuuri lifted his head, just enough to look Victor in the eye. But Victor was not looking at him, but out of the window, over the rooftops of the city, at the horizon.

“I cannot bear the thought,” Victor continued calmly, “to raise a child in the world that is our reality. I cannot bear the thought of keeping you in it. Of keeping you in constant danger. I have therefore decided to put an end to it. An end to who we are. To what we are.”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat as Victor finally looked at him, his gaze full of love, full of adoration and devotion. He brought his hand up to Yuuri’s cheek before he kissed him on the lips.

“I want to offer you the life that you deserve, Yuuri,” he said quietly. “And this life we can only have if we leave this life behind.”

Yuuri needed a moment to understand what Victor was talking about. The moment he did, his eyes widened.

“Victor, this is insane,” he whispered.

“Is it?” Victor sighed. “Perhaps it is. But I am willing to try. Do you know how many people fake their deaths these days? People think Yakov is dead, and he’s actually alive. All we have to do is to make sure people believe us. Burn everything down. Make sure that everyone thinks we are dead. It is possible.”

Yuuri sat up properly and grabbed the cushion of the sofa with both hands for support. “I can’t do this, Victor,” he breathed. “Did you even think this through? Do you even know what that means? Our families will think we are dead! We will never see them again!”

“Not if they die, too,” Victor replied calmly. “Not really, that is. And not all of them. I know that Yura wants to get out, too. Otabek probably as well. Chris, of course. Phichit hates this life as well. As for the rest, they will be the only ones to know what is going on, and who we will be. I’m not saying it will be easy. But it is doable, Yuuri. And I think we have to do this if we ever want to be truly happy. And truly free.”

It sounded far too fantastic.

Far too insane.

Yes, for a moment, Yuuri wondered if Victor had lost his mind.

“There is a plan,” Victor said gently and took Yuuri’s hands again. “A plan that I have been working on in secret since the day I met you. It is all said and done. Everything is ready. It only needs to be put in motion.”

Yuuri withdrew his hands from Victor and stood as quickly as the pregnancy allowed him, walking over to the window. Fortunately, Victor did not follow him.

Down below, he could see the people walking on the pavement, going on about their day.

Living their normal, ordinary lives, not aware that the Pakhan’s mate was watching them.

Sometimes, when Yuuri had allowed himself to dream, he had thought of what it would be like to be one of them. Similar to the fantasies that he had shared with Victor shortly before they had flown to Venice.

How wonderful it would be, an ordinary life.

* * *

“Mr Carraway?”

The nurse brought in a tablet with pasta, setting it down on the table by the window. “Some dinner,” she said maternally. “Your mate was very worried since you hadn’t eaten, he said. He insisted he would not push until you had something in your stomach.”

Mr Carraway’s friend began to laugh at that, the man in question blushing and glancing at the meal for only a moment.

“How is it going?” He asked softly, and much more relaxed than most alphas were in such a situation. “Is my jewel doing well?”

“Very well, Mr Carraway,” the nurse assured him. “I have to go back, but I think once you’ve had your meal, you might as well hold your little one.”

“I’ll make sure he eats,” said the friend of Mr Carraway and got up. “Come on, Nick.”

Mr Carraway nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose.

The door fell shut again, and the men moved to the table by the window, each of them grabbing a plastic fork.

“You are awfully dramatic, you know,” Mr Carraway’s friend said as he pushed the pasta around on the plate. “What a name. ‘Nick Carraway’.”

“Well, what about yours, ‘Stephane Lambiel?’” Mr Carraway gave back.

“I speak French perfectly,” Mr Lambiel said. “You cannot even hide your Russian accent. Why Nick Carraway?”

“I didn’t choose it,” Mr Carraway said and took a bite of the pasta. “My darling did. He loves F. Scott Fitzgerald.”

“I see.” Mr Lambiel said and took another forkful. “Mine is really into this figure skater.”

“I never would have guessed,” Mr Carraway said dryly.

Mr Lambiel only laughed.

* * *

In the end, Phichit thought, it always came down to the same thing.

Truly, it was ironic how nothing was ever new – no motivation was unique, no deed was unseen, no emotion was ever unfelt before. And yet, people claimed that they were the only ones, that only they suffered, that only they experienced the world with all its joys and sorrows.

You could find this attitude in many things. For one, there were the mothers who behaved like they were the only ones to have ever born children, so of course, they knew everything better. There were people who lost weight thanks to a certain diet and then turned into missionaries for this particular way of life, because surely, they had discovered the answer for a world-wide problem. There were the smartasses who generally believed to be superior, the people whose hearts were broken and who were sure that they were, really, the only ones to ever suffer heartbreak.

Phichit had always despised those, and he did even more so now.

In his hands, he held his phone, and played the message that Seung-gil, a particular know-it-all, had recorded for him.

The room was silent as they all listened. Victor, Yuuri, Christophe. And Mari, put on speaker, so she could hear it, too.

That in the end, it had all come down to the same old song of a man who could not bear the thought of not getting what he so desperately wanted.

“My mother was a friend of Katsuki Hanako. She does not speak of her a lot, but she did once. She was drunk, I believe, so I doubt that she remembers. Katsuki Hanako was promised to your father, Phichit, as a bride. However, she had other plans and wished to be released from this engagement. Her brothers granted her this wish and thus, granted her freedom. She left Hasetsu, and Japan, and made a life of her own, and found someone she wished to marry. She was killed the night before her wedding, openly so, by your father. I do not know what his exact motives were, but I assume that he could not bear the thought of not getting her for himself. So if he could not have her, no one could have her. As simple as that. The promise between the Katsukis and the Chulanonts, however, remained. An omega was promised, and that is what Chulanont now expects. To be honest, I was surprised he did not act already when the Katsuki omega married into the Nikiforov family. I assume that he plans to strike now. In my opinion, entirely childish, but so is the fate of an alpha.”

With Seung-gil ending his story, the room fell silent.

No one spoke for a very long time.

The first to find her voice again was Mari, who, before the voice message had been played, had told them a similar story. Not as detailed, but with enough information for them to put two and two together now.

Finally, Yuuri understood.

Finally, Victor understood.

“I hope you know what you are doing, Yuuri,” she said, her voice strangely soft, so very unusual for her. “This might be the last time we’re speaking for a very long time.”

“I know,” Yuuri said, his fingers intertwining with Victor’s on his lap. “But… with what we know now… I think it is for the best.”

“I agree,” Phichit said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It is not your fault, Phichit,” Victor said. “You are not your father.”

“He is right,” Chris said and pulled Phichit against his chest. “You are not your father.”

“No,” Phichit murmured.

“Are you sure this plan will work, Victor?” Mari asked through the phone. “I have to know.”

“I am certain it will work,” Victor replied. “Can we rely on you?”

“You can,” Mari replied. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri swallowed thickly. “Yes?”

“Give the kid a Japanese name,” she said. “When I come to visit, I don’t want to choke on my tongue trying to pronounce the name, okay?”

Yuuri laughed softly, leaning against Victor. “I will.”

“Stay safe,” she said. “You know where to find me.”

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Yuuri said.

She hung up, and everyone knew what it meant.

They had reached the point of no return for good.

How they dealt with it, however, was an entirely individual choice.

Chris and Phichit left as Victor called Yuri, and Yuuri called Otabek in to inform him, speaking to his bodyguard in a hushed voice, hoping he would understand. He could not tell what the Kazakh was thinking, if he was thinking at all. His explanations were interrupted when Otabek’s phone buzzed, a call from Yuri coming through, and Yuuri knew that his brother-in-law would be enough of a reason for Otabek to follow them. No, they did not have to worry about that.

Mari would explain everything to his mother.

Yakov would explain everything to Lilia.

Lilia would speak to Georgi.

And the wheel would keep on turning, and turning, as it always did.

Nothing was ever new.

The world would not stop for them, and it was good that way.

Once everything was said and done, Victor pulled Yuuri onto his lap on the sofa, reached for the remote, and put on some music. Yuuri, of course, recognised it in an instant – the song they had danced to on their wedding day, followed by a few songs they had always listened to during their honeymoon. Then, a song from Yuuri’s favourite ballet, followed by the song Victor liked to hear when he was on the treadmill. Songs, all of them poetry, all of them writing the story of the few years they had spent together. They felt strangely disconnected from them now, as if they were no longer part of their reality.

It was as if somewhere, far away, a clock was ticking for them, and only they could hear it. Like an echo of the past.

“We can never come back,” Victor said quietly and kissed Yuuri’s hair. “Never go home. Does that frighten you, my love?”

Yuuri shook his head, leaning further into his husband’s embrace.

“Home is wherever I will go with you.”

* * *

The next day, they drove back to Nikiforov Hall.

Two days later, the nearby village was shaken by an explosion, and the villagers watched in horror as flames engulfed the manor, as shards of glass rained from the sky and the smoke and ashes darkened the day.

The bodies that were found in its ruins were burnt so severely that they could hardly identify them.

One body, the papers wrote the next day, had been found next to a child’s cradle.

* * *

“Mr Carraway!”

The nurse opened the doors to the waiting room with a big smile on her motherly face. The man in question immediately jumped up.

“It is a healthy little girl, Mr Carraway,” she said warmly. “Congratulations.”

Mr Carraway gasped and brought his hands to his face as sobs came over his lips, as tears of utter joy streamed down his face. Surely, it was nothing new for the nurse to see an alpha, a first-time father to react like this, but with Mr Carraway in particular it was incredibly moving. His friend, the dashing young man from Switzerland, laughed and got up to hug his friend.

“Congratulations,” he said and patted Mr Carraway on the back.

“My jewel,” Mr Carraway breathed and stepped forward. “How is he?”

“Tired, but well,” the nurse laughed and linked her arm with his. “Come, don’t you want to see your daughter?”

“My daughter,” Mr Carraway breathed, and the nurse had to drag him along, otherwise his legs would not have worked.

It was, fortunately, not a long way to the delivery room on the other side of the hallway, where the nurse could push the poor man through the door and to his mate.

“There he is!” she announced to the omega who lay in the bed with a tiny bundle in his arms, his best friend by his side. “You were right, he did indeed cry on the spot,” she added with a small smile.

The younger Mr Carraway chuckled. “I told you,” he said softly and held out his hand. “My love?”

Mr Carraway seemed frozen on the spot, his eyes wide as he looked at his mate and their child.

Again, nothing the nurse had not seen before. It was always moving, how even the most dominant alpha became an utter mess at the sight of their first child. It would also never fail to entertain the nurse immensely.

“I think I need to find my boyfriend,” said the friend of the young Mr Carraway and got up. “Congratulations, Nick.”

Mr Carraway only nodded, but otherwise did not react. His mate was beginning to struggle not to laugh.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she said, knowing that it was now best to leave the young parents alone. “Ring the bell if you need anything, yes?”

“I will, thank you,” the younger Mr Carraway said, and the nurse walked out, carefully closing the door.

The omega smiled softly. “Don’t you want to greet your daughter, Vitya?”

Victor swallowed thickly as he slowly approached the bed and sank down on the mattress beside his mate, his love, his everything, unable to take his eyes off him or the little miracle that he held in his arms.

Their child. Their daughter.

“How are you feeling?” Victor whispered, swallowing again as he reached out to touch Yuuri’s cheek, so carefully as if he were afraid of breaking him with his gentle touch alone. Yuuri leant into the touch, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to Victor’s palm.

“I’m exhausted,” he said quietly. “But I cannot stop looking at her.”

He shifted a little, his hand coming up to adjust the blanket around the baby, showing off her beautiful, flawless face to the love of his life. And then, with incredible gentleness and patience, he placed their child in Victor’s arms, and watched in wonder.

Never before had Victor held something so incredibly beautiful, something so incredibly fragile and precious. A tiny bundle, nothing more, but already the greatest treasure that had ever been given to him by Yuuri.

There was nothing, and there would never be anything, that would be comparable to her.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Yuuri asked softly, reaching out to touch their daughter’s cheek.

Victor barely managed to nod, and his voice was hardly audible as he spoke. “She is perfect,” he whispered. “She is… oh my God…”

“We made this, Vitya,” Yuuri breathed, and as their eyes met, Victor saw that they were shining so bright, with such happiness. “We made this. Made her.”

“You are right, we did,” Victor said and the tears began to fall again, this time right onto their daughter’s face, causing her to scrunch her nose and cry, causing the first proper meltdown of her young life, and the first real heart attack of her parents.

Afterwards, when she had finally settled against Yuuri’s chest and had fallen asleep again, they dared to close their eyes, just to bask in this moment that only belonged to them, and that no one in this world could ever take away.

“I thought we could call her Mayu,” Yuuri whispered, kissing the baby’s head. “A Japanese name. But easy enough for the rest of the world. What do you think?”

“It is a beautiful name,” Victor said and turned his head, kissing his mate’s temple with outmost tenderness. “For a beautiful girl, with a beautiful life ahead of her.”

Yuuri smiled and leant into his husband’s embrace, falling asleep as his head came to rest on Victor’s shoulder, and the world was shut out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not go into too much detail on purpose towards the end - but Yuri and Otabek made it out, too.
> 
> I want to say thank you to EmHunter, who was always my greatest cheerleader for this fic. <3
> 
> (Also, don't shit on the name of the baby. I named her after a Japanese friend.)

**Author's Note:**

> Scream with me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/myangryuniverse)


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